She Gives Me Religion: Weekly Teasers & Outtakes
by Liz Lemon Bennett
Summary: These are teasers and outtakes for the work-in-progress, She Gives Me Religion.
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Until someone yells at me, I'm going to try posting teasers in this story form. It will allow me to post MA-rated content and give folks the option of signing up for alerts.

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She Gives Me Religion

Teaser Two

Chapter Five

Excerpt:

I'm on my knees before Edward Masen, The Beautiful and Kind—that should be his title. He's nude, and really hard. Huh, I never knew an erection could be so beautiful. It's a sculpture you'd find in a fine museum. I stroke one finger down the shaft. It's cold, hard—he _is_ a statue. Am I really here? Where am I? Maybe I'm dreaming.

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A/N

Hmmmm? Lemons?

Be well,

Liz


	2. Teaser 1 Chapter Six

Though I'm moving teasers to Saturday, I thought I would give you two this week. Why? Well, first, because I'm grateful to have you. Second, the last chapter left some of you a little shaken as it resonated with your personal grief experiences. I appreciate and respect your experience. For others, the chapter came across a bit confusing and was not your cup of tea. I also appreciate and respect your experience. So, let's get back to Edward's POV...

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She Gives Me Religion

Teaser One

Chapter Six

I settle into my pew and watch. Person after person comes to Bella to say a few words and then crumble in her company._ She_ is _their_ comfort, their strength. Bella even provides the tissues. _How about you Bella? How about they comfort you?_ I regret giving her new ways to remove herself from this experience. Already too adept at disappearing, I should have given her tools for falling apart. _No, no, she is falling apart._ Charlie's stories, as brief as they were, painted a clear picture of her pain. I'll get her through this day and be there to pick up the pieces later.

Three men enter in suits too shiny for my taste. They're dressed alike, clearly drove in together, they are about the right age… I think we have Mike Newton's best buds here. _Well, hello gentlemen. I think I'll have a few words to say to you before this day is through._ Do you think it might have been a good idea to tell your buddy he was fucking up? Maybe let Bella know what she was walking into? They were together long enough, you must have befriended her, too. The leader stands almost a full head above the others. Swarthy, broad shoulders, a thick neck—_you think you're tough, don't you?_ I can take you… and your friends. _Ah, what am I doing?_ _Damn it. _

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Oh, and yes, I adore reviews of teasers too! Anything you are looking forward to/ hopeful for/ fearful of, in regards to the funeral?


	3. Teaser 2 Chapter Six

Hello, Everyone. If you missed the first teaser, hop back over and grab it. On occasion, an additional teaser might slip out. You can always sign up for alerts so you don't miss any. Happy reading…

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She Gives Me Religion

Teaser Two

Chapter Six

She senses me. I'm next. _Lord, help me not screw up._

"Hi," I say as I take her small, cold hands in mine. I want to warm her.

"Hi."

Our conversation is only for us, so I lean down, absorbing her smell, touching my cheek to cheek, and whisper in her ear, "You look pretty, Bella." _I had four days to figure out what to say to her, and that's the best I can do? Brilliant. _

Looking down at our hands, her smile grows sad, and after a moment she rises to her toes and quickly whispers, "I know I don't look pretty, but I really, really needed to hear you say that, so thank you." She knocks me off guard, so concealing in one moment and completely revealing in the next.

Bella places her hands on my chest and continues, "_You_ look pretty. I like your haircut and your suit. It's very spiffy." Her fingers glide down my lapels and my whole body sings at her touch. I grab her hands as they fall away from me and stoke her knuckles with my thumbs.

"You _are_ pretty, _always_. Now, tell me how you're holding up…"

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And later…

_Hello, Lauren Mallory._

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A/N: See you next week!


	4. Teaser Chapter Seven

**I hope this finds you well…**

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She Gives Me Religion  
Teaser  
Chapter Seven

A roar rips out of Bella that makes my own cry sound like a purr. Chest and neck exposed to the moon, her arms outstretched, energy surging down to her fingers. She is luminous, incandescent. She is Catharsis. Isabella Swan is a goddess of rage, grief, sex, love, and death. But right now, it's mostly rage.

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I know it is short—I think you'll understand why when you see the whole chapter.

-Liz x


	5. Teaser Chapter Eight

I hope this finds you well…

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She Gives Me Religion

Teaser

Chapter Eight

...

"Edward, tell me this look on your face isn't because of me." She's going to tell me she's fine, but I don't want to hear it. I continue to touch the ice to her hand when I hear put down the bottle.

"Please keep drinking, Isabella."

"Not unless you look at me." I sigh, which I know is immature, but it slips out, and look up at her.

"Edward, I'm fine." I shake my head and go back to her wounds. "No, wait, skip that. Look at me." I do, expectant. _Yes, Bella, tell me how fine you are._

"Alright, I might not be in the best shape of my life right now, but I am so much better than I was this afternoon, or yesterday, or last week. And it's because of you."

"Okay." I return to her wounds. This afternoon we weren't checking to see from how many different places you were bleeding. And, yes, this is because of me.

"Edward," she places a hand on my jaw, lifting my face to hers, and she speaks with gentle conviction, "I will work on telling you when I am not fine, but you have to work on trusting me when I say that I am. Trust me, okay?"

I look into her eyes, and past the pleading, I notice something new. There's serenity in her, a peace. She's somehow sated.

"Alright," I acquiesce. Bella pulls me in for a soft kiss, and strokes my end of the day scruff on my jaw. "I'll trust you more if you eat your sandwich." She smiles, relieved, and picks up one triangle of the sandwich.

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A/N: Could it be? A chapter you can read with both eyes open? Maybe…

Regards,

Liz


	6. Teaser Chaper Nine

I hope this finds you well…

She Gives Me Religion

Teaser

Chapter Nine

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"… When do I get to meet this Alice, anyway?"

"She won't meet you until she's out of the hospital… a few days. How did she put it? 'I need to be properly dressed to receive a gentleman caller." Jasper chuckles, he knows I found his match.

"I like her."

"I told you. She's going to whip you right into shape."

"No one whips me into shape, Edward." His voice is defensive. I think Maria left scars that even Jasper doesn't see.

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**And later…**

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I come up behind her and clear my throat.

"Oh. Edward… you startled me. I looked for you, but didn't see you."

"I'm sorry, have we met?" She frowns then looks around like she's just entered _The Twilight Zone. _

"Edward? What are you…?"

Riley returns, "One club soda, lime twist," and sees me standing there. "Oh, hey, you must be Edward's friend. I'm Riley." They shake hands; Bella is still puzzled.

"Bella Swan, um… nice to meet you, Riley." Her eyes shift between us.

"If you need anything, just let me know. Edward is like family here."

"Thanks, Riley," I say. He winks at me and returns to the quickly filling bar.

As Bella sips through her straw, she examines me. No longer put off by my odd greeting, she now knows it's a riddle for her to figure out. It doesn't take long.

"Oh. Ohhh. Yes. I don't remember where we met… maybe I was mistaken. Maybe you just look like an Edward."

"And what does an Edward look like?"

"Well, it's an old fashioned name…"

"And I'm an old fashioned guy."

"I guess I just sensed that." A smile slowly creeps across her face as she grasps the game we're playing tonight.

"So, Miss Swan is it?"

"Ms. It's Ms. Swan."

"I beg your pardon."

"No need to beg, Edward, you have my pardon." _Holy Shit! I am totally channeling Jasper and it's working… she is sexy as fuck and I'm not doing too bad, either. _

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A/N: I have no words for what has happened to this little story this week. So, right now, I won't say much, I'll just keep writing.

Full chapter next Saturday.

-Liz x


	7. Outtake: Good Enough

**Please forgive this long A/N:**

The reason for this outtake is gratitude—we are celebrating 500 reviews, and so much more…

For the readers, thank you for supporting this story in all the ways that you do. I never understood the power of reviews until I sat on this side of the computer screen.

For PaintedTeacherLady, on her birthday. Thank you for holding my hand through the CE, this story wouldn't have happened if it were not for you.

For Babies. Though they expected a baby from Ethiopia in a year or two, my friend/ pre-reader Sunshine and her Mr. received a call this weekend notifying them of a domestic ten-week old girl awaiting adoption. While Mr. stayed home with their four year old, Bean, Sunshine and I hopped on a plane. It's been a crazy couple of days, but... We have a baby!

From our hotel room, Sunshine, RoastedPeanutChickenBaby (who beta'd this), and I are sending this to you, with love.

We hope you enjoy…

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She Gives Me Religion

Outtake

Good Enough

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From Chapter Four, A Little Sensitive:

_Carlisle hugs me tighter and after a few moments, we pull ourselves together, breaking our hug and wiping our tears. Carlisle hands me a handkerchief. My father always carried a handkerchief, and in that moment I decide I too will never leave home without one. _

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_4:25 pm, Monday_

_Twenty-four hours after Bella leaves for Forks, sixty-seven hours before the funeral._

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I'm not sure why I've been asked to come in here. I hope they don't think I was trying to shoplift.

_Dear Lord, there are plenty of things I do wrong, but shoplifting in not on my list of commonly committed sins. You and I both know I didn't do anything wrong—well at least nothing that I know about. Help me to convince them of my innocence. _

Too nervous to sit, I take another moment and pace around the room. No, this place is too nice for shoplifters—a dark high-gloss wood desk and two high-end leather chairs. Shoplifters, I'm sure, go to some sort of grey interrogation room with just two chairs, a desk, and some cigarettes. _Cigarettes_.

My eyes are trained on the door behind the desk. _What's back there?_ I press my ear to the door, but hear nothing. Slowly turning the doorknob, I hear a click, and crack it open to steal a look. There is a tiny stage opposite full-length mirrors. Behind the stage is a sitting area—two armchairs anchoring a long leather couch—all matching the furniture in the first room. This is a dressing room for the filthy rich.

There's a brief knock at the first door and I snap around and try to hide my guilty face as she enters. "Mr. Masen, it is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Ms. Varek, I'm a personal shopper in menswear."

This is an attractive, well-manicured woman, with her black hair in a twist, and wearing a steel blue suit, and dark-rimmed rectangular eyeglasses. She has a firm handshake, all business. I'd say Ms. Varek is somewhere between my age and Esme's age, which is a pretty big spread, but I can't really figure out where she falls. She caries a small leather notebook and a black gift box.

"Shall we take a seat?" She gestures back to the desk and chairs and I sit down with growing concern.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what I'm doing here. Am I in some sort of trouble?"

"Trouble? Oh, no… no, no, no, Mr. Masen. I'm sorry for the confusion, I thought you were told. I'm here to talk to you about handkerchiefs. I understand you're having some difficulty deciding on which design and some of our associates thought I would enjoy meeting you. I mean, meeting you to discuss our handkerchief options."

"Oh, okay, yes. No, I don't like any of them." She cocks her head, seemingly surprised by my finality, but in the last few hours I have become a connoisseur of all things handkerchief. I know what I'm looking for; I just don't know if it exists.

"Let me show you what I have to offer, Mr. Masen. I might have exactly what you want right here," she says with a bit of confidence and whimsy, as if she might have something I haven't seen before. I'm game.

Inside the black box are six handkerchiefs. Ms. Varek takes out each one and places them in a perfect line between us. Though I'm hopeful for something unique… something special, these are the same six I have been staring at and fingering for the last hour.

Before she has a chance to sway me, I give her a crocked, disappointed half smile and shake my head.

"No?"

"I've looked at these already. Do you have anything I haven't seen?"

"No… I'm sorry, this is all I have to offer." She sounds sincerely disappointed, not wanting to lose the sale, I'm sure. I'll buy a couple for her trouble. "Men's handkerchiefs don't sell anymore, few designers are making them."

"Yes. That's what everyone it telling me."

"Everyone?"

"I've spent most of the day looking for the right handkerchief. I've been everywhere… Neiman's, Kuhlman's, Mario's… Target… but haven't come close to finding what I'm looking for."

"What is it, exactly, that you're looking for, Mr. Masen? Even if I don't have everything you want, maybe I can convince you that what I have will fill your needs." The cocky businessperson I met a few minutes ago is softening; she seems authentically interested in satisfying me. Ms. Varek is a very good sales person. I'm willing to let her show me things I might not have noticed in these handkerchiefs.

"Well, I'd like it to be simple, white, nothing flashy." She goes back to the row and removes the same three I dislike the most, one printed, one blue, and one embroidered with ornate stitching.

"But mostly, I want it to be soft."

"Soft?"

"Yes. Very soft." Taking her time, she first rubs each one between her thumb and forefinger before narrowing it down to two, and then selecting one as the winner.

"How about this one, Mr. Masen? It's the softest of the classic white ones, with a simple double stripe at the hem. This is Derek Rose, he is a fine designer."

"You are good at what you do, Ms. Varek. This is my favorite, but it is still not good enough. I just don't understand with the advancements made in bed linens how we are so far behind in handkerchief softness."

"Not soft enough? Mr. Masen, may I?" She extends her open hand and looks down to mine, so I place it in hers. "This," she slowly runs the fabric in a circle over the back of my hand, "isn't soft enough?"

"On the hand, yes it's soft enough, Ms. Varek." I take the handkerchief from her and walk around to her side of the desk, "May I?"

She blinks up at me, and speaks in a breathy, nervous tone, "Excuse me?"

"May I show you something?"

"Please," she whispers and stands. I'm impressed how eager she is to learn a customer's perspective on her inventory. I bring the handkerchief close to her face, but she stops me, "wait," and tosses her glasses on the desk. "Okay, I'm ready."

I bring the handkerchief to her, first dabbing it under her eye as she looks at the ceiling, then carefully using it to stroke her cheek. She closes her eyes and quietly breaths, "Oh."

"You see, don't you?"

"Yes," she says, with her eyes still closed and I realize that maybe I have been too forward. After a moment, we meet eyes again, and I sit back down in my chair.

Clearing her throat, she quickly composes herself and says, "I see what you mean, not soft enough." She writes a few things in her notebook. "Mr. Masen, may I ask you a personal question?" _No. I hate personal questions._

"Sure."

"Why the quest for the perfect handkerchief?" _Okay, this I can do._

"My father always carried one. I'm at the point in my life where I want to carry one too."

"Mmm… my father always carried one, too," she says wistfully. For a moment she is lost in her own thoughts, her expression tells me it's a fond memory. When she comes back to me, she is full of mirth, "Mr. Masen, do you have a few more minutes to donate to this journey?"

"Sure." She stands and goes to a wine refrigerator in the corner of the room.

"I'll be back in few minutes, can I offer you a glass of Fumé Blanc while you wait?"

"Yes, thank you." I am very curious now. "You're not going to tell me what you're doing, are you?"

"I don't want to get your hopes up, but keep your fingers crossed," she says with an enthusiastic grin as she leaves the room. _Crossed fingers? Please… I've got prayer, Ms. Verak. _

By the time I finish my wine, Ms. Verak returns with a pad of paper and a triumphant smile.

"Good news?"

"Great news. I just spoke to one of our buyers. There is an up and coming Belgian designer specializing in handkerchiefs."

"Belgian?"

"Belgian. And he has it all. His specialty-simple, white, and soft as a baby's bottom."

"Perfect. Do you think someone should tell this guy that no one is buying handkerchiefs these days?"

"That's the genius of it. He hasn't been able to break into menswear, but he thinks that _Mad Men_ is going to bring back handkerchiefs. He'll make a name for himself here and, although the trend will fade, his name won't."

"Smart guy. Do you think he's onto something?"

"He's received requests from the world's four top department stores in the last 72 hours."

"Wow. Can I get his name?" She's puzzled. "I just want to follow his success, I'm interested in small businesses."

"Oh, of course… and I assume you'd like to place an order today?"

"Yes, I'd like fifty of them."

"Fifty? Are you sure about that?"

"I've thought this through. I lose socks in the wash all the time."

"Socks?" _Maybe I've said too much… I should explain._

"Well, yes, and I'll probably lose a lot of these over time too." _Her face tells me_ _I should probably stop talking. _"Um… and I'd like to be able to store them around my condo, so I have them in lots of places and one will be there whenever I need one."

"Socks or handkerchiefs?"

"Handkerchiefs."

Ms. Varek is scribbling something on her pad with a heavy hand. She thinks I'm an insane person… and probably unable to afford this order. I look down at my Bruce Springsteen concert shirt, worn jeans, and scuffed boots.

"Okay, I'll be able to have them here in two weeks." Continuing to write, and shaking her head, she sounds a little angry and maybe embarrassed. "We can have them delivered to your home, or you may pick them up here. I'm sorry," _you don't sound sorry_, "but this will require payment up front." She finishes writing and hands me the bill.

I don't look at it—not because I'm cool, but because I don't give a fuck what it costs. I take out my credit card, the black one I never use, and hand it to her. Lips part, eyes widen. Yes, she definitely thought I was crazy and poor.

"I know it is an odd order, Ms. Varek. I don't indulge in many luxuries, but when there's something I really want, I go for it. And I really want these. Fifty of them, by Wednesday afternoon… whatever it costs." She wets her lips.

"I don't know if we can get fifty by…"

"Whatever it costs."

Leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed, she narrows her eyes at me. "Why?" I think she's challenging me. Polite requests to ask personal questions are gone.

"_Why_?"

"Why. What happens on Thursday?"

"A funeral happens on Thursday."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she says, jolting forward. The mere mention of death halts a conversation and brings immediate shame. _I should have made something up._

"Don't be. It's okay. It isn't for anyone I know."

"Oh… um… I'm still sorry."

"Thank you."

As she makes a few more notations on her pad, she continues to look up at me, pressing her lips together, holding back the question that perches there. Finally, she speaks, "Mr. Masen…"

"Edward."

"Edward," she smiles and looks away. "Do you have a suit for the… um… funeral?" _Today I look like a man who doesn't owns a suit._

"Yes, I do. Well… it's couple years old… maybe three years. Is that too old for a suit?"

"No, I'm sure it's fine." After a big exhale, her shoulders slump forward and she lets it out, "It's just that this afternoon we received Gucci's winter line—suits—and while I would normally have models here to try them on for you, we won't have models until tomorrow. We haven't seen them on anyone yet… I was curious if you would be interested in trying one on."

"Gucci?" _Often featured in GQ_. "Aren't they a little… colorful?"

"Yes, some… but there is a beautiful black suit this season… conservative, classic."

"And you think it would look good on me?"

"Oh God, yes. I mean… Gucci suits look good on all men. The tapering…"

"Tapering?"

"They sort of… hug the body."

_Hmm, I could use a hug right now. _

"Sure, let's do it. I'll try one on."

"Really?"

"Why not?" I have no place else to be.

~0~

An hour later, I'm on the tiny stage—a pedestal, really—giving a show for four women: Ms. Varek—who I now call Tabetha; Iris—a tiny, older, Jewish woman who is taking my measurements; and Rachel and Alicia—who have finished their shifts in Lingerie and almost two bottles of Fumé Blanc.

I guess it's not really a show. I'm just standing here. But they seem to be enjoying themselves. Typically, this sort of attention from women repels me. Cursed by my inability to draw in the people I want, and avoid those I don't, the only gift I see in the mirror is remembrance—my mother's resemblance in my face, and my father's in my body.

But I'm actually enjoying my afternoon here, imagining what it might be like to have female relatives—sisters and aunts. These women are giving me the confidence and advice I need right now. I want to be worthy to stand beside Bella on her difficult day… or at least behind her.

"I still like the navy suit better," Alicia says pouring more wine and sliding back down on the leather sofa.

"No… I don't think so. That suit is nice, but I want to be traditional. I want to wear black."

"He likes conservative, ladies. And this is as conservative as Gucci gets," Tabetha says, controlling the room.

"This isn't too shiny is it?" _I hate shiny suits._

"No," Iris speaks authoritatively; she's the grandmother you wouldn't want to piss off. "Look," she gets on her knees and moves the bottom of the pant leg around so I can see it in the light. "You see? No shine. Matte… Cover your eyes, I'm going to measure the inseam."

I put my hands over my eyes and hear the room burst out in laughter. Iris tugs on my pant leg, "Not you, them."

"If it's all the same to you, Iris, I'd like to cover my eyes for this part, too."

I feel her hand at my inner thigh; I hope no one is looking.

There's a knock at the door, "Everyone decent?"

"_Mr. Jay!_" they all yell in unison, even Iris.

I open my eyes to see an impeccably dressed, tall, thin man. He is carrying a small dog wearing a cream cable-knit sweater. _I will not stereotype. I will not stereotype._ _I will not __stereotype. _

Tabetha introduces us. "Edward, this is Mr. Jay, he's in men's shoes."

"I am not _in_ men's shoes, I _am_ men's shoes." _I will not stereotype._ _I will not stereotype._

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Jay."

"Oh, honey, you are far too straight to call a queen like me Mr. Jay. You just call me Jay." _First, I'd like to thank you for being gay. It makes me feel better about stereotyping you. And, second, you can tell I'm straight? I love you, Uncle Jay._

"I heard about this little party, so I came in on my day off. Rachel, you lazy bitch, pour Mr. Jay a glass of wine." Rachel is falling into Alicia with uncontrollable laughter, unable to even hold the bottle steady.

I look over to Tabetha, and she's taken off her glasses, squeezing the bridge of her nose. _Yes, Tabetha, you've lost control of the room._

"Mr. Jay, tell Edward here he should go with the navy," Alicia says as she takes the bottle from Rachel.

"I do like the navy…" he starts.

"Funeral suit." My expression is pleading; I need him on my side.

"Funeral? What are we even talking about? Black. Done. There's a reason you are in bras, Alicia."

"Jay, I like your dog's sweater, do you have it in people sizes?"

"Do you hear that, Kisby? Edward likes your sweater." He brings the dog to his face and she licks his smile. "Yes, we have something very similar. Are you in a shopping mood, Edward?" I run my fingers through my hair… I normally hate shopping, but I'm here so… hang on. I look around the room, all of their faces, intently awaiting my answer. They are skillful salespeople and I am a dollar sign. Most of them work on commission, I'm sure. I shouldn't be offended; this is business.

"I… um…"

"No." I'm thankful Tabetha interrupts me. "Edward, we're glad we've been able to help you find what you are looking for, and we would be happy to continue doing so, but we're not vultures. We should be accommodating you, but you have been accommodating us. I'm sorry. We've been acting very unprofessionally."

The tension in my jaw fades.

"I don't care what you buy, I just want to see you in more sexy pants."

"Rachel," Tabetha says, reproachfully.

Rachel looks contrite. "Sorry, Tabetha, sorry Edward… I'm a little drunk." Alicia looses it in hysterical laughter and Tabetha gives up, sitting back in her armchair.

"Yeah. I could use some new clothes. But I don't want anything flashy. I want to blend in."

Alicia chokes on her mouthful of wine before saying, "Blend in? You could be wearing camouflage and not blend in." They all murmur in agreement.

I stare at myself in the mirror. Now that my jacket is on and Iris is tapering the waist with pins—emphasizing that hugged look—I see the suit might not blend in, after all. _Maybe I shouldn't wear it to the funeral. No, I want to look nice for Bella. I want her to know how much I care, how much I'm trying._ I gawk at my ridiculous, tousled hair. Wild locks pulled in every direction by my neurotic compulsion. Slowly, I run my fingers through it, maybe for the last time, feeling each hair pulling away from between my fingers and finding its resting place amongst the chaos that is my mane.

I look over to Jay, he reads my mind and gives me a solemn nod, softly saying, "It's time."

The women exchange quizzical looks and then, as if a switch is flipped, they call in unison, "_No_."

"Ladies, do not make this harder than it already is on Edward." _Thank you, Uncle Jay._

"Tabetha, you have a salon here, don't you?"

"Yes, we do, Edward." She approaches me, reaches up, and asks, "May I?" I bend down and she pulls out locks of my hair, examining my head.

"My turn," Rachel says with her hand raised, but she's quickly hushed.

"It doesn't look like you're ready for another color treatment. What highlighting technique is this, baylayage?"

"Um…no. I don't have anything in my hair. It sort of grows out of my head this color."

"I see." Tabetha gets a warm, motherly look on her face. I like this woman. I like all of these people. "Ladies, Mr. Jay, is there any question who we should send him to?"

"Jennifer."

"Jennifer."

"Jennifer."

Jay sighs, "I'd really prefer to see Marcus tonight, but he is a colorist… Jennifer it is."

~0~

"Good night, Alice. I'll see you tomorrow." I hang up and stow my phone.

It's closing time. Alicia, Rachel, Jennifer, and Kisby are asleep in the couch and Tabetha is cleaning up the rest of our take-out dinner. Though I've insisted that I can take them home myself, Jay is meticulously organizing my new clothes and shoes for delivery. Iris, who has stayed all night to finish my suit, is looking at me, now fully assembled, one final time in the mirror. Black suit and tie, Prada shoes, a crisp, bright-white, heavy linen shirt, and a white, rectangle pocket square, that is barely peaking out.

"Now Edward, that is a pocket square, not a handkerchief," Jay reminds me, before retuning to his folding.

"Got it."

Instead of running my fingers through, I run my palm over, my hair. It's short on the sides and bit longer on top. It's funny how much more I can see my eyes without all the hair. The side part makes me look, at the same time, much younger and much older. I think I look appropriate for a funeral, for Bella.

Iris steps on the little stage with me, and tugs at my sleeve until I bend down and she's close enough to whisper in my ear. "I hope she's a nice girl." I've never mentioned Bella once.

"She is," I whisper back. Iris holds my face and kisses my cheek. It is not a quick peck; she presses her lips to my skin. As she does, I feel as if she is imparting some mystical understanding only a woman her age could have. When she is done, I look down at her misty eyes.

"Thank you, Iris."

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Review an outtake? Yes, please.

-Liz x


	8. Teaser Chapter Ten

A/N: Did you catch the outtake, "Good Enough?" It is the previous chapter of this 'story.'

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She Gives Me Religion

Chapter Ten

Teaser

From Chapter Nine:

"Mmm. So, are you going to answer my question? What do you intend to do with me?"

"Well, Isabella…" I say, emphasizing each syllable. "I'm not sure if you've noticed," I say, pulling off each boot, "fucking sexy boots, by the way…" and throw them over my shoulder.

"Thanks… I'll tell Alice, they're hers," she laughs and I crawl up onto the bed, between her legs, "noticed what?"

I begin to unbutton and unzip her jeans, "Each time we've been together, you have been the instigator…"

"Yes, thank you for mentioning it… I'm painfully aware of that little pattern."

"No worries," I crawl back down off the bed, "I thought tonight I could wear the pants, while you Isabella Swan," I hold onto the cuffs at the bottom of her jeans, "wear none," and pull them off in one swift move, and she squeals once more. _Fuck yeah, I've been thinking about that move all day. _

"Oh, my."

* * *

Bella bites her nail in a coquettish manner as I unbutton my shirt and throw it behind me with the same exaggerated flair as tossing her boots.

"Come here," I grab her ankles and pull her to the end of the bed and she rewards me with her steady stream of laughter. "I want to tell you something."

She sits up, squirming with excitement. "Yes?"

"First, I want to tell you how much I like this sweater. It's a beautiful color on you." I take the hem of the sweater, pull it up over her head and watch her hair cascade back down to her shoulders. Folding it carefully, I place the sweater on the chair behind me.

Before I can turn around, I hear, "Lights please." Her voice is quiet and sweet.

"Tell me when."

Sliding the dimmer switch down, until the lights are almost off, I hear, "When."

My eyes adjust to the darkness as I walk back over to her. We are nothing but shadow and light. Bella slides a finger over my fly of my jeans. "May I? It's only fair." Before I can answer, she's unbuttoning my fly and helping me push my jeans off. "I like these," she says running her finger around the waistband of my boxer briefs. My erection is obvious, but I know longer know if I should be ashamed or proud.

I get on my knees and say, "I still have a few things to say."

"Yes?" When the lights are low, so are our voices.

"I like this bra." I reach around and unhook the clasp, "And I like taking it off of you." As I slide the straps over her arms, I drag my fingernail over her skin and feel the goose bumps awaken. With all my might, I restrain my touch, still desperately trying to implement my research… to let this build. I pull the bra away from her and place in on the floor. Her palms cover her breasts, but I'm not sure why. _Is she trying to let things build too? _

Pressing my hands down on either side of her, I rub my nose along her jaw and whisper in her ear, "Isabella, I'm going to make you come with my mouth."

.

.

* * *

A/N

They're called teasers for a reason, no? I'm working on another teaser for Fictionators' Teaser Monday. See you next Saturday!


	9. Teaser Chapter Eleven

A/N: This scene takes place in Alice's hospital room. Using her typical cunning, Alice gets her parents and Bella to go to lunch. It is clear to Edward, that Alice wants him to stay.

* * *

She Gives Me Religion

Chapter Eleven

Teaser

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.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Brandon, but I think I'll stay here and keep Alice company."

I walk them out and shut the door, feeling positively buoyant from the performance I witnessed. "Damn, Alice you are good…" I stop in my tracks when I turn the corner and see her. Alice's eyes are closed and her expression is pained. I realized how much energy she exerted in arranging the lunch date.

"_Alice_?_"_ I am about to get a nurse when Alice holds up a finger, stopping me. I freeze, watching her take a few breaths. Eventually, she opens her eyes, blinks up at me, and gives me a sad smile.

"Don't look so scared, Edward, I'm okay."

It takes me a moment, but I eventually find the ability to nod. Alice is the strong one—the strongest of the three of us. Without her… _Lord, give me the strength to carry us all; let me fulfill your purpose for me here today_.

"I hope you're not waiting for an invitation." Alice shifts her eyes to Bella's seat. Unlike days ago, Alice barely moves a muscle—her shoulders, chest, even her head seem locked in place.

.

* * *

A/N

Oh, Alice! My heart is breaking a bit writing this chapter. It is a wee bit shorter than most of my chapters, but I plan to get it out sooner. I'm shooting for Sunday or Monday.

I'd love to hear what you think.


	10. Teaser Chapter Twelve

She Gives Me Religion

Chapter Twelve

Teaser

* * *

I go into the living room and pretend to scan the new books on the bookshelf. Really, I'm just waiting for Carlisle.

I feel him approach.

"I've only known her a week," I say quietly. Carlisle says nothing, but when I glance at him standing next to me, I see he is slowly nodding. He too, stares straight ahead, feigning interest in the books.

I lean in close to him and roughly whisper my defense, "What am I supposed to say, 'Hi Bella, I know you're going through a hard time, but can you put that on hold so I can tell you my sob story?" Quickly, I look over my shoulder hoping my voice didn't carry. Carlisle looks back, too. We listen to them laughing in the kitchen. They didn't hear, but they might.

When I meet his eyes, I see no trace of the disappointment I feared. He purses his lips in a firm line, but I think he might understand that my situation is difficult, my choices necessary. _Maybe._

"Carlisle, you know I don't like telling her… you know… not the truth, right?" His eyes flash—long enough for him to say the word 'lie' in his mind.

He tilts his head towards the front door and, after I nod my consent, he calls out in a light voice, "Edward and I are going to grab some more firewood from the shed."

"Great idea," Esme calls back, "let's keep the fire going."

Carlisle takes his time slipping on a jacket. He doesn't look at me again until he offers me my own, which I decline. Already reevaluating his disappointment in me, I'm far too warm for a jacket. I'm starting to perspire.

.

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* * *

A/N:

Good news first or bad news? Good news? Okay:

Good news—this is going to be a long chapter.

Bad news—I think you'll have to wait until Saturday. One week.


	11. Teaser Chapter Thirteen

A/N

Happy Passover and Easter to all those who celebrate.

This scene takes place in the kitchen of Edward's condo. Bella arrived from work finding Edward cooking dinner. She is sitting on the kitchen counter.

* * *

She Gives Me Religion

Chapter Thirteen

Teaser

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"We're having chicken for dinner?" Bella asks.

I drag my nose along her neck and inhale deeply. Her scent comforts me, grounds me.

"Mmm-hmm… roasted chicken." I trail feather light kisses along her jaw, "And mashed potatoes," I murmur on her skin and make my way across her collarbone.

"I love mashed potatoes. I can make them while you finish your plate of tomatoes."

"I got a little knife happy again tonight." I feel Bella gently finger my hair as I bend down and kiss her sternum. "I'll make the potatoes. That's my job. I got cream and buttah."

"Mmmm. Buttah? Someone's been watching Paula Dean again."

Unbuttoning Bella's lavender blouse, I continue my path to the swell of her breasts.

"Tomorrow night, I'll cook for you. Name anything you want…. you like steak, right?"

"Don't like my cooking?" I unclasp the next button and continue my descent.

"I love your cooking. I just want to take care of you."

"I don't need you to take care of me."

I go to touch her breast, but her chest caves, pulling away… she stops playing with my hair. I meet her eyes and lean back to get a better look at her.

"Is something wrong? You look pale all of a sudden."

"Um… no. I'm fine. I think I'm just tired."

"Don't you feel well?" I feel her forehead to check for a fever, but she pulls my hand away.

"Edward, no, I feel fine. I'm… tired. I don't want to mess up dinner. What time do you think it will be ready?"

"I can turn it off. Lie down, take a nap, we'll eat later."

"Edward, please… I just… twenty minutes?" I think she's upset, but I have no idea why.

"Yeah, sure… twenty minutes. I'll come up and get you."

"Okay, thanks." Bella slinks off of the counter, grabs her bags, and walks out of the kitchen.

* * *

A/N:

In ten days, things go back to normal and I finally get my life back. Unfortunately, I probably won't have time to post the new chapter before then. I will post another teaser next Saturday.

Thank you for your patience.

If you would like to read my account of the Water For Elephants Premiere in NYC, you can find it posted as the story, Evian for Animals.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	12. Teaser 2 Chaper 13

**A/N This teaser takes place immediately after the first teaser.**

She Gives Me Religion

Chapter 13

Pretending

Teaser-2

* * *

For twenty minutes I try to figure out what went wrong. Alice is well… Bella's job—which I hate—is good. She's famished… she likes mashed potatoes. It must be me. I'm the problem.

I climb the steps and find Bella under a blanket, holding Pedi and a handkerchief. I lie down along side of her and stoke her cheek with the back of my hand. "Are you crying?"

"No," she whispers, and reciprocates by stroking my face.

"I said something wrong. What did I say?" She says nothing for a moment, but gives me her sad smile.

"Edward…" she begins, but pauses. Uh-oh. She has her Professor of Grace face on, the same expression she used with the Newtons. I must have really messed up. "Why do you like doing things for me?"

"Because I care about you."

"Mmm, yes. Because you care about me." She continues to stroke my face and play with my hair. Her voice is so calm, soothing. I don't feel like I'm in trouble. "I'm a lucky, lucky woman. And what if I didn't have you? What do you think I would do?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think I could survive on my own?"

"I don't know… I guess so… I… I don't like to think about that. I don't like to think about us not being together."

"Me neither." I'm relieved that her response is so quick, but I'm confused, I don't know where this is going. "But if I had to, if I really had to… I could find a way to survive. I'm glad I don't have to, but I can take care of myself, Edward. Okay?"

"Okay."_ Are you breaking up with me?_

"_Oh, Edward._ Don't look so sad. Come here."

I scoot up to her and rest my head under hers for a change. She wraps her arms around me and I let her rosemary and peppermint fragrance envelope me.

"What's the matter, Edward?"

"I don't know what I did wrong and I'm afraid I'll do it again."

"You didn't do anything wrong. You feel good making me dinner and I feel good that you made me dinner, right?"

"Right."

"But they feel good for different reasons. I want the joy of taking care of you… I want to express how much I care about you, by doing things for _you_."

"Like making me steak?"

"Like making you steak."

I look up at Bella, my angel, and recite a line from St. Francis, her prayer, "For it is in giving that we receive?"

"Exactly. Thank you," she whispers and kisses the top of my head.

I get it. Balance. I rest my head back down on her chest.

"So, Edward… tomorrow night, I'll make steak?"

"Mmm." I nuzzle her breasts. I'm so happy here. At the moment, I don't care that I'm not the man.

"Is there something else you'd rather have?"

"Do you make lasagna?" I ask against her skin.

"I make a kick-butt lasagna."

* * *

A/N:

This chapter is a BEAST! You'll see. My beta and I are working hard to get it all cleaned up and pretty for you.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	13. Teaser Chapter Fourteen

She Gives Me Religion

Chapter Fourteen

Teaser

* * *

.

I practice my three sentences again:

_Bella, my parents died in a break-in ten years ago._

_I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner._

_I hope you will forgive me. _

She'll ask questions, but I'm used to the questions—everyone asks the same ones.

…

Bella sits quietly on the couch for a long time. She's barely said a word since dinner. Maybe I've barely spoken. I don't know.

"Should we call it an early night and head up?" Bella's careful voice is distant, falling away from me. "We have church in the morning," she continues, "are we going to Carlisle and Esme's for dinner?"

"No."

Oh, the freedom to say no. But I can't take this misery… I can't prolong this. "Yes… maybe we'll go."

"Are your parents going to-"

"No," I snarl under my breath.

I begin to sweat. The deadline is here. My breathing becomes labored. _What was I going to say again?_

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.

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* * *

Short teaser, I know. This chapter will not be as long as the last-well, really, how could it be? ;)

I hope to post next Saturday.

Be well,

Liz x


	14. Teaser Chapter 17

Teaser  
Chapter Seventeen

* * *

As Alice unlocks the apartment door, Bella and I exchange nervous glances for the one-hundredth time this morning. Alice opens the door and struggles to maneuver her chair through the entryway.

"May I?" I'm grateful that Alice willingly accepts my help this time.

I wheel her into the living room and cringe at the lack luster appearance of the place. Although Bella and I planned for a spectacular homecoming, our long weekend relegated us to a rushed early morning decorating session using what we found at an all night market. The apartment is filled with every flower the market had, all half-wilted. Across the living room, we used ribbon to hang a sign we made using magic markers on paper plates—_Welcome Home Alice_. We ran out of paper plates before finishing the sign, so the _c_ and _e_ in _Alice_ squishes together on one plate. We curled the remaining ribbon and taped it to the ceiling, hoping it would look like streamers or the end of helium balloons, but we have no balloons. On the dining room table, we have a plate of Alice's favorite, raspberry croissants from Le Panier. It is our only success.

Standing behind the chair, I have no way to gauge Alice's reaction but through the reflection on Bella's face.

"Oh, Alice." Bella's expression melts and it doesn't take long before she is on her knees holding a crying Alice.

"You two did this for me…? You're so talented."

Although I smile, I don't think Alice even intended the irony—she's truly touched.

* * *

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.

.

Yippie! Alice is coming home. What will this mean for Edward?

See you later this week,

Liz x


	15. Teaser Chapter 18

Hello all! I hope this finds you well. I'm still in Italy, but should have a bit of free time in the next few days to write.

I loved the reviews of the last chapter, but have had difficulty finding time to respond to those reviews. I hope you understand. Please enjoy…

* * *

Chapter Eighteen  
Teaser

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.

"Edward, I can still see it from here; move it back a little further."

Twisting around in my seat, I check the visibility of her wheelchair, folded and hidden by the children's highchairs on the way to the restrooms.

"Alice, if it was any further away, it would be in the kitchen."

"Can we arrange that?" She asks with a hint of ruefulness, knowing she's being a pain in the ass.

"No. Alice, Japer knows you're in a wheelchair. I don't understand what you're trying to do here."

"He might know I'm I _have_ a wheelchair, but he doesn't have to see me _in_ the wheelchair."

"Alice it's fine where it is," I hand her the folded, laminated menu. "Why don't we order something to drink while we wait?"

"No beverages for me; I don't know what I'll do if I have to go to the restroom."

"You'll go to the restroom," I say as I scan the menu.

"Why did we come here? A diner? Really? I usually don't like diners." _Dear Lord, grant me patience. She needs to relax or operation matchmaker will be a disaster. _

"What's not to like? Breakfast anytime of day." _And none of your favorite places are wheelchair accessible, but you don't need to know that right now. _

"You're right. I'm sorry. This place isn't that bad. It looks familiar; I must have been here before."

As much as Alice's anxiety is wearing on me, at least she's distracting me from my own pensive about Jasper and Bella's meeting this morning. _What are they talking about? God, don't let her forget to tell him something._ I pretend to read the menu, glad for Alice's surprising silence.

Again, I go over my list: PTSD is the top priority; surely she knows to discuss that. Eating has not appeared to be a problem over the past two days, since Alice has been back. I'm still curious about the details of her parents' divorce. Though Bella doesn't talk about Mike, his death must be in her constant thoughts…

"Edward?"

"Huh?" I'm too distracted to look up.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Alice?"

"You're as worried as I am, aren't you?"

I look up to find wide, sympathetic eyes. "Worried?"

"You're doing the jaw clenchy thing," she says gesturing to her jaw with her slender finger.

I unclench and rub my fingers against my jaw, feeling the tension I'd been holding there, the dull ache in my molars and wisdom teeth.

Alice lets out a long exhale and places her menu down.

"There's nothing to worry about, Alice. We're just having lunch together…"

"No. I'm not talking about Jasper. Bella."

I put down my menu. This conversation was going to happen sooner or later. While I conducted hospital hours with Carlisle last night, Bella told Alice about her meeting today with Jasper. Though I don't think Bella shared the gruesome details of our weekend together, Alice at least now knows of Bella's nightmares.

"Bella will be fine. Jasper is just talking to her to help select a good therapist. There's nothing to worry about." My voice in nonchalant, far from how I really feel.

Alice presses her lips together in a line and audibly exhales through her nose.

"Edward, tell me what she didn't tell me. How bad has it been?"

I try to keep it abstract. If Bella doesn't want Alice to worry, I want to respect her wishes. "I don't know. She had a nightmare to two, not a big deal."

"She's so private," Alice says, almost to herself. "I wonder what they're talking about."

_Ditto. _

"And they're late, too." Alice's face in her hand, her elbow propped on the table. "What time did the appointment start?" she asks gazing out the window.

"They're not late. We're very early. Remember? Someone wanted to get here early and hide her wheelchair—I'm not naming any names…"

Alice rolls her eyes at me, but it ends in a smile. "Alright, point made. Let's order a drink—wait, that's them. Here they come…"

.

.

* * *

More soon!

Ciao, Bellas!

-Liz


	16. Teaser Chapter Nineteen

A/N Hi Folks! Yes, I thought I'd have a whole new chapter for you by now. I need a few more days. I just returned from my trip and I'm still a bit jet lagged.

Hoping this ties you over…

* * *

Teaser  
Chapter Nineteen

* * *

Bella lies on the bed, moving her arms first to her sides, then above her head, and then to her sides again. "Where should I put my arms?"

I walk to the side of the bed, admiring her. "Above." She stretches out her arms and turns her head, smiling at me.

"Lose the pillow."

Quickly, she tosses the pillows off to the side, stretches out her arms, and returns to her happy gaze. The innocence and natural beauty of Bella lying on folds of white bedding, bathed in afternoon light, is a sight to behold.

"What are you smiling at?"

"You really have to ask…? Isabella, you are sooo, so, pretty."

Before my eyes, the creamy skin covering her body transforms into pink.

"Don't go away," I say with a firm tone that brings a wider smile.

I walk into the bathroom to grab the almond oil and am unable to avoid my own reflection. My face is flushed. My eyes, hooded. Short hair, growing longer, is in wild tufts around my head.

_Slow down. Breathe, Edward, you can do this. You know her limits. Fun, but gentle; commanding, but accommodating; Godly, but dirty..._

"Edward… please stop over thinking this."

_Right, right, here we go_. After one more look in the mirror, I grab the oil and leave.

When I walk back out, I find she is writhing, moving her pelvis in tight circles.

"I don't remember telling you to do that."

"Oops. Sorry."

"Be still."

* * *

A/N

**SGMR was nominated for an Everlasting Twilight Award for Best Forbidden Love! Yippie! Thank you!**

**Voting for this round ends tonight at midnight:**

**http:/everlastingtwilightawards (dot) yolasite (dot) com/nominations (dot) php**


	17. Teaser Chapter Twentyone

She Give Me Religion  
Teaser

Chapter Twenty-one  
Retreat

* * *

After the last group boys heads to their tents to sleep, I pull on another flannel shirt and meet up with Carlisle by the dying campfire.

"Tired, old man?" I ask as Carlisle stretches and yawns.

"I still have a little life in me."

"Good. I'll get the fire going again." I throw a log on the fire, and take great pleasure shifting the wood, hearing it crack. I rest my head back onto my log and watch the occasional ember twist and float against the dark blue sky.

"I wish we had some beer," I whisper.

"Me too. It's not always easy being a role model."

"You and I should come down here sometime, just the two of us."

"Yes we should, Edward. Let's do that. Maybe we can squeeze in a trip before it gets too cold."

"I'd like that a lot." I look up at the stars and take a cleansing breath, now realizing how much I've missed Carlisle this month. We've had official business, but nothing like this. "Sorry I haven't been around much."

"I understand. It looks like things are going quite well between you and Bella."

"Yeah, they are. Well, I think they are. No, they are."

"You spend so much time together, today must have been rough for you."

"No. Surprisingly, I think it was okay. You know, I get focused on the boys and all."

"I heard you challenge Seth to a game of basketball… Oh, the memories."

"I know, right. You were good with that whole pick up game of basketball bullshit."

Carlisle laughs and I look up to see his kind eyes shinning in the light of the fire.

I remember well the Saturday morning a few months after moving in with him…

* * *

A/N We'll get a bit of Saintward's backstory this chapter. The chapter is in the hands of capable, vacationing editors.

Soon.


	18. Teaser Chapter Twentythree

**Thank you for the birthday wishes! You all rock!**

Let's see what is in store…

* * *

She Gives Me Religion  
Chapter Twenty-three  
Teaser

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.

.

I sigh and look into her tired, brown eyes.

"Edward, let me show you something." Bella turns over onto her back, pulls away the covers, and lifts her t-shirt up a few inches. "Do you see that?"

"Your underwear? I like them. The polka-dots are cute." _Cotton, lace, I like them all. _

"Thanks. I like this pair, too. Now you see this?" Bella runs her finger across her pelvis.

"Yes, but I'm not sure what I am looking at." _But I like it._

"When I was in Forks, the elastic band didn't touch my stomach, it stretched between the, um, hipbones, but look right here." Bella brushes her finger back and forth over the flesh under her navel that touches the elastic band.

"You're gaining weight?" _I knew she felt heavier when I carried her into the bedroom._

"Yes, yes. I am. I told you, the eating is getting better. I have no idea what happened to our bathroom scale, and it doesn't look like you have one, but I can feel it."

_Fess up._

"Bella, I threw out the bathroom scales. Sorry." I wince, apologetically.

"I knew it!" Bella sits up and points her finger at me, "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it." With both hands on my face, she pulls me in and showers me with innocent kiss, laughing.

Sitting back on her heels, she shakes her head and holds her hands to her heart. "Oh, Edward, you pulled me through the last few weeks. Honestly, don't know what I would have done without you. The English language doesn't have words to adequately express my gratitude… and, though you might not see it now, I hope you will soon, _I am getting better_."

.

.

.

And later…

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"Is he alone? Does he have a client?" I ask, barely slowing my path to his office door.

"He's alone, Edward. I'll tell him you're— _Edward."_

_Too late._

I storm into his office and I'm met with Jasper's raised finger, halting me. He is sitting at his oversized, expensive therapist desk, writing on a pad of paper.

I cross my arms and lean back on his office door.

_How dare he make me wait?_

"Jas—"

"_Wait_," he snaps, as he continues to write.

He finishes writing a few words, drops his pen on his desk, and leans back in his chair. "I expected you would show up here," his voice is as cold as his ice blue stare.

"Damn right I'm here. You fucked up, Jasper. You fucked up big time."

.

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* * *

Aww… see, an angst free chapter coming your way.

This is going to be a longer chapter and I will have it done for you on Saturday.

I'm traveling this week spending my free time writing, but haven't been able to respond to as many of your lovely reviews as I would like.

Still friends?

Hope so.

Liz x


	19. Bella's Secret

A/N:

First—**SPOILER ALERT**—This shouldn't be read until after you've read Chapter Twenty-two, Pieces.

This is a guide that I posted on Twilighted, but I heard from some of you who have difficulty accessing it; so, I thought I would post here.

Please forgive proofing errors. I didn't have this beta'ed.

* * *

Bella's Secret  
SPOILER ALERT  
This should be read after Chapter 22

**.  
**

**This is where it all starts:**

At the Hospital October, 3rd (Ch.3)

"Did Sibiohn have something for you when arrived this morning?" Carlisle asks.

"Yes, thank you for coordinating things; they gave me Valium."

"Valium? Well that will relax the muscles, you must be feeling better." Bella gives Carlisle two thumbs up and she cautiously meets his eyes for the first time.

"Be careful with that stuff," he says in his fatherly tone.

"I will. I only took a half of one; it seemed to do the trick."

.

.

**Back in Forks, October, 3th -6th & Morning of the Funeral, on Oct.7th (Ch.5)**

Since Chapter Five is Bella's POV, we see her take the Valium:

"Since I don't know if the aspirin worked, I opt for the half of Valium and put my bra on."

"I open the cabinet again and reach for the Valium. _Play hard, or go home, Bella_—I'm taking a whole one—without water, damn it!

It seems like only a minute later, Dad is helping back up the steps. With one hand, he holds my arm around his neck; his other hand is around my waist. I'm dragging Pedi by his foot. He keeps hitting his face on the steps."

"_I can do all things through Christ—_and Valium_-who strengthen me._

I take a Valium, wrap it in a piece of toilet paper and use my fist as sledgehammer, giving it two strong thumps. The pill breaks into five jagged, little pieces. I take the largest piece, still less than half a pill, and wrap the rest back up to put in my purse.

**Funeral, October 7 (Chs, 6-7)**

Bella is taking those pieces tucked in her purse throughout this day, most notably, on the way to the gravesite and after the talk w/the Newtons. She comes home and hides in the bedroom trying to pull herself together. She is startled when Edward comes to knock on the door. When she wants coffee, or a 'pick me up,' it is because she has overdone it.

**Back in Forks, October 7 (Ch.8)**

Though we don't read about it, this is the first evening Bella wakes from a nightmare while with Edward. Here she starts her routine of taking pieces and writing in her journal to fall back asleep.

**First Date, October 8 (Ch.9-10)**

She arrives at Kell's from the hospital where we find out that Alice is 'Blue.' Bella is disturbed about Edward ordering food, but after she comes back from the bathroom, she is calmer. It was a struggle for her, but she decided to take some Valium in the bathroom. Again, she asks for a 'pick me up' cup of coffee and Edward notices that, although Bella only had a sip of wine, she seems drunk.

Later that night, after some serious oral sex, Edward finds Bella awake on the couch reading. It is the only time he knows she woke from a nightmare.

**Day at hospital with Alice, October 9 (Ch. 11)**

Bella does not take any Valium when Alice is around. Alice would know immediately. When the chapter starts, Bella is very nervous, in part because she has used Valium to get through the last few days. Here, she starts to believe she needs them.

Though we don't read about what happens later that night, she does take some Valium. In fact, she takes small pieces most nights from here on out.

**Dinner with Carlisle and Esme, October 10 (Ch. 12)**

Bella does not let herself take Valium on this day; she has become disappointed in herself for relying on the pills and wants to do this dinner without the drug's help. However, she has difficulty eating, which Edward points out to her later, and worries that she made the wrong choice.

We also see her physical difficulty with intercourse. Again, she wonders Valium would help with this problem, if she made the wrong choice by avoiding the pills.

**Chicken Dinner, Blindfolds, and Mirrors, October 12 (Ch. 13)**

A reader suggested I write this chapter through BPOV as an outtake. At first, I loved the idea, but Bella is tormented in this chapter and I don't think it is anything people will want to read. If you think this chapter is angsty in Edward's POV, it is devastating through Bella's.

One of the reasons she is so troubled is because she is wrestling with her use of Valium. She started work this week and uses it to get through the days there. When Edward tells her that he doesn't need her to take care of him, she goes upstairs to lie down. When she does, she takes a piece. After the blindfold, and Edward's insistence that she look at herself in the mirror, Bella tries to get downstairs. Why? She incredibly upset and wants to get a Valium. When he stops her on the staircase, she looses it.

**October 13-16**

We don't have a chapter about these days, but we read that Edward is has stopped having sex with her and is 'cold and distant' during this time. Bella is using the Valium to get through work, eat, and fall back to sleep. These days are upsetting for Bella as she learns to deal with emotionally unavailable Edward. She knows something is wrong, but she can't seem to reach him.

**Lunch w/Charlie and Sue & Edward's loss of control, October, 16 (Ch. 14-15)**

No Valium for Bella on this day. She fears Charlie would know, and so would Alice. During the walk to lunch, we see Bella's concern about appearing healthy so that Charlie won't take her back home.

After Edward leaves for the run, Bella vomits before she has a chance to take a pill. Many times, she tries to take a piece, but she can't hold any down. Bella cries herself to sleep on the couch and has the nightmare. Though she tries to take a piece again when she locks herself in the bathroom after Edward's return, it is no use.

In his internal monologue, Edward says that she needs sedatives; he doesn't know Bella has been trying to take a sedative all night.

**Wallowing in bed, October 17 (Ch. 15)**

Bella tells us she went downstairs to have cereal and make coffee. She also took a whole Valium.

**Edward's Confession, evening of October 17 (Ch.16)**

Bella's Valium has worn off; this is all her without drugs.

**Alice's Homecoming, October 18 (Ch. 17)**

This is a day with Alice, so no Valium for Bella. Also, she is so tired that she sleeps through the night without any. Bella is getting confident she can get off of these pills. Good thing, there are only a few pieces left.

**Jasper Consultation, Telling off Mrs. Newton, & fun sex, Oct 20 (Ch. 18 & 19)**

Bella has a small piece of Valium before her meeting with Jasper—this might have helped her show down with Mrs. Newton. After a nightmare, Bella takes her last piece of Valium.

**Girl's Night at the bar, Oct 22 (Ch. 20)**

Bella is out of Valium, she simply gets drunk with the girls. Edward wakes in the middle of the night to the smell of coffee. Bella woke from a dream and instead of falling back to sleep and risking a nightmare in front of Edward, she decided to stay up through the night. She wants to see Edward off to his retreat and work on learning to sleep w/o the pills.

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* * *

A/N: Bella is healing. Many people have written that she seemed better in the last several chapters and thought that this was due to Valium. As you can see, Bella consumed most of her Valium early on.

Next chapter, tomorrow morning.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	20. Outtake: Special

A/N:

Hello everyone.

Though I love writing in Edward's POV, there are several scenes I would like to share, but cannot. Hence, this is aimed to give you a little more of Jasper and Alice's story.

Thank you to my friends who do so much for this story: **orangeapeal** (who helped me through many drafts of this outtake), **Sunshine** (who beta'ed this), and **robsjenn**, my Seattle researcher and pimp.

We start off in chapter eighteen, with Alice and Edward waiting in the diner for Jasper and Bella.

* * *

From Chapter Eighteen: Awkward

_"And they're late, too," Alice says with her face in her hand, elbow propped on the table. "What time did the appointment start?" she asks Edward, gazing out the window._

_"They're not late. We're very early. Remember? Someone wanted to get here early and hide her wheelchair—I'm not naming any names…" _

_Alice rolls her eyes at me, but it ends in a grin. "Alright, point made. Let's order a drink—wait, that's them. Here they come…"_

* * *

She Gives Me Religion  
Outtake

Special

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_Impossible_, Alice thought.

As soon as she set eyes on the tall, blond man walking with Bella, Alice felt a surge of electricity hum through her body, even the parts that had been numb since her surgery a week ago.

The feeling of déjà vu was so intense, she had to look back to Edward to be sure she wasn't dreaming.

_It must be the pain meds fucking with my head. _

Edward stood as Bella and Jasper walked into the diner. The nearer Jasper came, the more certain Alice had become; he bore a frightening resemblance to the man from her dreams. The striking stranger appeared several years ago, and had played a reoccurring role ever since. In all of those dreams, he spoke only once. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Wait for me."

Alice stroked her hair and pressed her lips together refreshing her lipstick, but there was no reason for her to feel insecure; she looked beautiful. Alice had often been compared to Audrey Hepburn, and today was no exception. Her black, glossy hair grazed her jaw line and the boat neck pale pink sweater she wore highlighted her delicate neck. A blanket of thick, long lashes that nearly reached her bangs when she blinked, framed her deep brown eyes.

Jasper stood looking down at the bemused Alice as Edward spoke.

Edward tried to introduce them, "Ms. Brandon, this is Dr. Jasper…"

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she uttered, mindlessly. Just when she realized what she had said, and embarrassment flooded her cheeks with warmth, Jasper took her hand.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." He spoke with a slow Southern drawl.

Alice could not pull her eyes away from him. He even moved like the man in her dreams, graceful, assured.

Edward and Bella tried to engage the two in conversation, but neither Alice nor Jasper could seem to pull their attention away from one another.

_Alice, pull yourself together. For fuck's sake, you're staring at him like he's a piece of meat. _

She strived for a neutral expression, figuring it was the best she could do, still uncertain if she was really dreaming or maybe hallucinating. But if it were either of those things, she didn't care. She simply did not want it to end.

Bella's chair scraped across the linoleum of the diner floor, and Alice looked up to see Bella and Edward walking towards the restroom hallway.

Now alone with Jasper, Alice tried to snap out of this strange trance and find her voice.

"Those two can't seem to spend a minute apart," he said.

"Yes. I'd say our friends are quite smitten with one another."

"Ah, young love is something to behold." He turned and looked at her with a knowing expression.

"You say that as if you're much older than Edward. I thought you two were college roommates."

"Yes. Edward and I are the same age." Jasper appeared to carefully choose his words. "Edward has always had a youthful exuberance I never did, even when I was a youth."

Jasper seemed different from the men Alice dated. He carried himself with maturity, a calmer, more controlled demeanor than most men in their twenties. This drew her even closer to him.

"So, Ms. Brandon, are you a Seattle native?"

"No. I'm a New Yorker, the Upper West Side. But that was before we became 'The Traveling Brandons.'"

"Oh, you're a circus performer," Jasper said wryly, his lips twitching into a smile.

"My mother and I refer to the seven years we lived in ten different cities as the time we were 'The Traveling Brandons.'"

"And you traveled for?"

"My father's business."

"What sort of business does your father do?"

"Exporting."

"Ah, that mysterious industry. I've always wondered exactly what that job entailed."

"He exports things."

"Oh, thank you. Now it makes sense."

"Sorry, I'm teasing you. I swear to this day, I'm still not sure exactly what he did. As a child I told everyone my daddy's job was to talk on the phone."

"I bet you were an adorable child." When Jasper spoke, he drew out each out each vowel, and articulated each consonant.

Alice was too busy listening to the way he spoke to think of a response. All she could do was look up at him through her thick lashes.

"Do your parents still travel?"

"Yes, but now they have a home base back in New York. A few years ago, my mother put her foot down. They had just moved to Ames, Iowa. Before the first moving box came off the truck, my mother turned to my father and said, "Take me the fuck home." Alice laughed and shook her head.

"She sounds like a pistol. Does the apple fall far from the tree?"

_Oh, if you only knew._ Alice worked to curb her acerbic wit. She'd just met the man and didn't want to scare him away.

"We have some similar traits… and she looks just like me. People think we're sisters."

"She must be striking," he said quietly.

Alice wondered if she heard him correctly.

Jasper shifted in his chair said more loudly, "And you came to Seattle for college, and stayed?"

Alice opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself, and gave a curt nod_. Oh no you don't. You aren't a good conversationalist; you're a good therapist._ In the matter of a few minutes, she had shared, what she saw, as half of her life story, but still didn't know a single detail about him.

"It must have been very difficult for you, a young girl moving from city to city, trying to make friends."

"Well, doctor, you'll have to get me on your couch if you want to know about that."

Jasper sat back in his chair and eyed Alice as he drank his coffee. He put down the cup, turned it so the handle was facing just so, and said, "Touché. I hope you'll pardon my intrusion. We just met and I'm already desperate to know everything about you, Ms. Brandon."

_He likes me_, Alice thought, then reminded herself about the difference between hard and hard to get, a lesson she had to continually relearn throughout much of her adult dating life.

Jasper leaned his body towards Alice, and craned his neck away so that he could see Alice's view of the restrooms where Bella and Edward had disappeared.

Though he was not looking at her, Jasper's proximity was so close she could feel his hair brush her cheek; she felt his warmth. Closing her eyes, Alice inhaled deeply though her nose, and concluded that Jasper smelled of an expensive version of the woods—clean, masculine, but refined.

Jasper leaned away, and Alice cleared her throat, pulling herself out of his warm, fragrant spell.

"What do you have to say about that?"

_About what? Smelling you…? Kill me now. _

"Not a minute apart," Jasper shook is head and smirked.

Alice realized that she too was supposed to be looking down the hallway. Taking a quick glance, she could see Bella and Edward talking by the pay phones.

"They're sweet," she said, almost to herself.

"My mother would call that lollygagging,"

"That must have been difficult for you, having a mother who would use words like lollygagging?" _Too sarcastic, Alice. _

Jasper said nothing, but raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle his smile.

"Ms. Brandon, I have a proposal for you. Since our two smitten, sweet, youthful friends can't stop lollygagging, how about we give them some time alone. It turned out to be a beautiful, sunny day and I would be honored if you would accompany me on a walk in the park."

"Yes, I'd love to." She spoke before she had thought about her unique predicament. She couldn't _walk_; she was in a wheelchair. What made matters worse is that she had only been in that wheelchair for two days and felt like clumsy ox trying to maneuver it. Though Jasper knew of her wheelchair, the idea of him seeing her in the chair made Alice's chest ache. Words like 'cripple' and 'invalid' assaulted her mind.

All of her hopes and fears were mingled into this one moment. It was only two nights before that she had said to Edward, '_What if he's the right guy, but it's the wrong time?_'

And now, here Jasper sat. _Edward Masen, you are in big trouble_,_ mister_.

Jasper leaned in again. _Why does he keep doing that to me? _

"Excuse me, Ms. Brandon."

She nodded, relieved for some time to figure things out, and watched Jasper walk towards the restroom hallway. She wondered what was happening to her. Why she weighed each thought or action instead of simply being herself. Jasper Hale had sent her into a tailspin. He had disarmed the woman who could not be disarmed. Was it her near death experience? The wheelchair? The dream? _Pull your shit together, Brandon, he's just a guy. A really hot, smart, classy guy, with blonde hair and silver-blue eyes… _

Her mouth dropped open to see him return wheeling her chair. Alice had Edward hide the chair there by the booster seats, but Jasper must have spied it while watching Bella and Edward, or pretending to.

Though her mind scattered, Alice tried to come up with some pithy comment about the wheelchair, but it wasn't necessary.

Jasper moved the wheelchair next to her and, without saying a single word, scooped Alice into his arms. Alice slid her hands around his neck, as he straightened his long, lean frame.

Though it was natural position for one's hands, for Alice, feeling Jasper's warm neck against her palms was surreal. She didn't want to be put down. Ever.

Jasper hesitated before placing Alice in her chair. For a moment, his face revealed a certain kind of tenderness. His clear, blue eyes blinked down at her, his lips parted, and for a nanosecond, Alice actually thought he might kiss her.

Instead, he smiled a benevolent smile and gingerly placed Alice in her wheelchair.

They said a quick good-bye to their confused friends and walked out into the mild-weathered autumn day. Jasper wheeled Alice to the park where he bought them ice cream cones. As they headed down the bike path along the water, Jasper told Alice about growing up in a small town in Texas.

Wanting to look at Jasper's face, Alice continually tipped her head back as they walked and talked. She couldn't decide which drew her attention more, his crystal blue eyes or his sculpted lips, and the way they twitched, curled, and smirked, but never fully smiled.

"Do you mind if we stop here for a while, Ms. Brandon? I like the view." Jasper eased the chair up to a bench and Alice tried to stretch out the kink in her neck when he wasn't looking.

"Are you always going to call me Ms. Brandon?"

"I was raised to address a person by their proper name, until being invited otherwise."

"I'm inviting you."

"Invitation accepted… Alice."

_How does he do that? The sound of his voice makes me melt. Talk to me Jasper, say anything… read me the phonebook._

"Tell me, Jasper, what's the best thing about being a therapist?"

"Creating world peace," he said straight-faced.

Alice arched her brow. "That's very magnanimous of you."

"That's my answer if I ever run for Miss America."

"One doesn't run for Miss America, one competes for Miss America."

"Oh, no. My chances of being elected are declining by the minute."

"No really, is it all about helping people?"

Jasper leaned back and crossed his legs, the water reflecting in his eyes.

"Of course, that is a big part of it. But I would be lying if I didn't mention the freedom of being my own boss, setting my own schedule, and really, psychology is a science, and I'm a scientist at heart. I'd be bored to death if I weren't in a profession that challenged me."

Alice looked at him for a long while. "It's funny, you and Edward seem so… different."

"Do we? In what way?"

Fearful she might be betraying her new, dear friend Edward, Alice proceeded with caution. "Oh, I don't know. He's… his heart is on his sleeve… He seems…" _Clueless? Insecure?_

"Edward is a unique person," Jasper interjected. "He is one of the brightest people I know."

"Really?" she asked, incredulously.

Jasper chucked. "Yes. He dragged half of our class through undergrad. Hell, I was getting my PhD, and would go to him for help. I have no idea what his IQ is, but I wouldn't be surprised if he scored in the genius range."

"Edward? Our Edward?"

"Yes, our Edward. Did you know he can hear a piece of music only once and be able to play it on the piano?"

"I didn't know he played."

"Yes. He plays beautifully; taught himself how to read music at a young age. You see him with Bella. He's a puppy-eyed teenager with her. When it comes to Bella," Jasper leaned in, "all women, really, he's a little... under experienced. And you know, Alice, no one has a heart bigger than Edward's."

"Hm." Alice wondered how a man with Edward's looks could be so inexperienced with women, but that was a different conversation for a different time. The idea of a smart, insecure man trapped inside of the body and face of a model made Alice a little sad for him.

"I think Bella is the right woman for him," she said.

"Me too. So, speaking of a therapist's flexible work schedule. Are you working today?"

"No. I'm starting back slowly—free for the rest of the day."

"Good." Jasper pulled out his cell phone and pressed a single button. He looked at Alice as he spoke. "Marcia, I won't be in for the rest of the day. Can you cancel my 3:00…? Thank you." Jasper ended the call.

"Canceling a session?"

"No, just a meeting." A smile crept over is face as Jasper leaned into Alice again.

_Oh, now he's just teasing me with his expensive woodsy scent… but I don't mind. _

"As much as I enjoyed our ice cream lunch, I think I still owe you a proper meal. Do you cook?"

"With the best of them."

"Good. May I propose we pick up a few things at the market, go back to my place, and make dinner?"

"That's your second proposal today."

"I doubt it will be my last, Alice."

_Oh, he's so sexy. _SO. FUCKING. SEXY!

"Jasper, you cancelled your meeting before you asked if I'd join you for dinner."

"I know." He stood, and they began to make their way to Jasper's car.

"What's your specialty?" Alice asked.

"I'm a Southern boy. I'm going to make you chicken fried steak, of course."

Alice tipped her head back to see his grin. Though chicken fried steak never appealed to her before, she found the idea of having her mouth on anything Jasper touched very appealing.

"I'm joking," he finally said. "Do you like duck?"

"You make duck? Fancy."

Jasper leaned down, his cheek brushing hers, and whispered, "I'm trying to impress you."

He held his face against hers long enough for Alice to respond, "It's working."

"Good." Jasper straightened up. "I'll make chicken fried steak on our second date."

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Jasper did not make chicken fried steak on their second date. Instead, he took Alice to La Bête, a trendy restaurant in their Capitol Hill neighborhood.

After dinner, Alice invited Jasper back to her apartment. She felt grateful for Bella's help earlier that day:

"_Alright, Alice. I think we have everything," Bella said emptying the shopping bag. _

"_Thanks again, honey."_

_Bella handed Alice a bottle of white wine, which Alice put in the refrigerator. _

"_Don't forget, we also have that good red Edward brought over." Bella reached into the bag again. "Now, don't freak out, but I bought you these." _

"_Condoms…? Bella I just met the man, I'm not going to have sex with him."_

"_You never know." _

_Alice sighed. "Bella, I have a box in my dresser."_

_Bella scrunched her nose. "I know, but they're a little old."_

"_Thanks for reminding me." Alice offered her hand and Bella gave her the box of Trojans. _

_At the age of twenty-four, Alice Brandon considered herself a professional dater. Rarely did more than a few weeks go by without at least a lunch or coffee date. However, she had shared her bed, in the most intimate way, with only four men. The first was her high school sweetheart. A two-year relationship that ended shortly after Alice entered Seattle University. The next two were boyfriends of several months. Number four was a one-night stand that stretched out to a twelve-day long torrid affair where they barely left her bedroom and talked of soul mates and marriage. On the thirteenth day, he stopped returning her calls. This was over a year ago and left Alice with a wariness for love at first sight. _

_Alice placed the condoms in her dresser and returned to Bella. _

"_Are you sure this skirt looks okay?"_

"_What do you mean? That's your favorite leather skirt."_

"_I know, but does it look okay in the chair. I hate that I can't cross my legs." _

"_It's very sexy, especially with those boots. And don't worry about crossing your legs, the tights are perfect." Bella glanced around the apartment. "Let's see, what else? Oh, your nighties are drying in the laundry room…"_

"_Bella…"_

"_Just in case… Okay, I'm heading out."_

"_I hate kicking you out of your own apartment."_

"_You're not kicking me out." She leaned down and gave Alice a kiss. "Call if you want me to come home."_

"_You can count on it. What are you and Edward doing tonight?"_

"_Oh, Edward has some stuff to do for the church. I'm going to rent some movies." Bella was being evasive. Edward had been on a retreat since that morning and wasn't scheduled to return until Monday. _

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Back at the apartment, as Alice and Jasper continued their conversation about Alice's career promoting bands, Jasper carried their wine into the living room.

"Then there was the band who wanted to be marketed as a ska-punk band from Scotland," Alice made quotation marks in the air that matched her sarcastic tone.

"Ska-punk? I have a vague idea of what punk is, but what is ska?"

"Um… let's see, precursor to reggae. It's been reinvented during nearly every decade. In the fifties, The UK came out with two-tone, ska's second wave." Alice looked to Jasper for some recognition, but he just sat grinning at her like he had some sort of secret. "You haven't heard of two-tone have you?"

"No, but I love hearing you talk about music. You know your stuff." The admiration in his voice was unmistakable. "Explain the air quotes. They weren't who they said they were?"

"Complete posers. I hate when musicians worry more about the gimmick than the music."

"Where were they from?"

"Dayton, Ohio."

"Dayton?"

"Oh, yes, and they performed in kilts that I swear were Catholic school girl uniforms… but that was not the worst of it. Forget the fact that they weren't Scottish and they all spoke with bad Lucky Charm leprechaun Irish accents, and forget the fact that they weren't ska-punk…"

"What were they?"

"Who the hell knows… the worst is that they gave me a rider."

"A rider? Like demands?"

"Yes. I won't get into the nitty-gritty details—like the fact that you don't get riders when you're nobody—but let's just say, they wouldn't perform without juice boxes. I am telling you, we could go into business together. My crazy musicians would keep you and your partners busy for a long time."

Jasper topped off their glasses with wine and Alice leaned over to unzip her boot. It was the first time since the surgery that she'd worn those boots, and they were giving her trouble.

"May I help you?"

"No, no, no. I have this." Alice lifted her leg with her hands and dropped it onto the coffee table with a thud. "Oops, that's going to leave a mark." She tried to deflect with humor and met his eyes with trepidation.

Jasper's hand went to her leather-covered calf. "Are you sure I can't take these off for you?" His breath was on her ear.

"No, it's okay, I have this." He squeezed her calf once, let go, and looked on quietly as Alice struggled to remove her first boot.

"Is that your favorite music, ska-punk?"

"No. I'm an R&B woman," she said lifting her head up from the second boot.

"R&B? Really?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes."

"Have we talked about Austin? Have you ever been there?"

"We lived in Austin my last two years of high school."

Alice tugged at the heel of her boot, lifting her foot off of the table, and wrestled until her leg was free.

"Couch?" Jasper asked.

"That's the plan." Jasper stood to offer help, but Alice was in perfect position to hoist herself from the wheelchair to the couch without any assistance.

"So, where were we?" Alice asked, inconspicuously wiping the sweat from under her brow with a sweep of her fingers.

"We were in Austin."

Alice closed her eyes, and hummed. "Yes, Austin. That's where the magic happened." She opened her eyes and confessed, "I used to sneak out at night and go to hole-in-the-wall R&B joints."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope," she slowly shook her head and smiled at the memory. "I would sit in the back and listen for hours to these musicians who had been playing together since long before I was born."

"You were sixteen? Seventeen?"

She nodded with a mischievous grin.

"Did you have the same haircut?"

"Close… why?"

"I'm trying to picture you—some dark, smoky club, and you, the little white girl sitting alone drinking a Coca-cola."

"You got part of it right, but I wasn't drinking Coke. Bourbon."

"Bourbon?"

"Mm-hmm. I foolishly thought it would give me some sort of street cred. The bar tender would fill up my glass with a lot of ice and the cocktail waitresses would refill the ice all night long as I sat listening to music and nursing my drink. I don't know, for some reason they must have liked me."

"Oh, I can think of several reasons to like you." He gave her a smoldering look as he drank his wine. "And now you've turned your passion into a glamorous career."

Alice snorted, "Glamorous? Working late nights in clubs… dealing with no-talent, prima donnas who have some relative willing to pay for a PR Rep… not glamorous."

"Maybe not glamorous, but I can see your passion."

"Mmm. Some of my clients… the ones I find and offer my services on commission… musicians that would rather put money into new instruments than pay some agency for promotions… that's my real passion—undiscovered talent." Alice's eyes glimmered as she spoke.

"And you… you must date a lot of these musicians… right?"

"Hell no. I'd never date a musician. I'm telling you, they're all crazy—narcissistic personality disorders."

Jasper nearly spit out his wine. "Excuse me?"

"I know a thing or two about psychology, Jasper."

"You are full of surprises, Ms. Brandon." The sound of his husky voice was so seductive, that she nearly crawled across the couch and onto his lap. But instead, Alice looked up at him through her forest of thick lashes, and drank some wine, quietly collecting herself.

"Anyway, that life is over now… well, I guess not over, on hold. My agency has me promoting through social networking."

"Social networking? That's Facebook and The Twitter, right?"

Alice laughed. "Yes, The Twitter. It doesn't sound like you're on."

"Ah, no. I'm a face-to-face sort of guy."

"Oh, you should try it. We can tweet each other."

"Tweet?"

"We can send tweets on The Twitter." Her expression broke into a laugh.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Maybe."

"Ok. Set me up with the tweets, or Facebook, whatever. We can talk to each other there?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I'd like that."

Alice couldn't contain her smile as she envisioned virtual flirting with Jasper.

"Oh, you know what? I have the movie. I just rented _The Social Network._ Do you want to watch? It's about the start of Facebook."

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

Jasper took off his shoes and placed them neatly beside the couch. He wore simple black dress socks. They weren't anything special, but Alice could not keep her eyes off of them. They had no holes and they weren't worn at the heel. They matched, and neither was inside out—further evidence that Jasper was in a class above anyone she'd ever dated.

"Do you like my socks?" He asked, wiggling his toes. Alice had been caught staring.

"I do."

"I have a whole drawer full if you'd like to see them someday," he teased.

"I bet you have one of those drawer inserts that keeps them organized."

"I might have such an organizer, yes. Do you have a thing for organization?"

"I do… organization is hot."

"I have a label maker," he said seductively.

"Careful, that's dirty talk to me."

Jasper didn't respond, but walked to the television and placed the DVD in the player. Alice worried she was coming on too strong.

As he returned to the couch, Jasper turned off the lamp. He placed a pillow on his lap and helped Alice stretch out on the couch and rest her head down.

Jasper looked down at her with a rapt expression as Alice told him about The Scala and Kolacy Brothers who arranged the Radiohead song _Creep_ for the movie trailer.

"Having an all girls choir cover songs like _Creep _it makes the songs' messages come alive-like it was written for them. An idolized rock star singing about insecurity and unrequited love is not the same as hearing it sung from the mouths of adolescent girls…" Alice stopped herself before telling him that the song makes her cry.

While they watched the movie, Alice thought about the offer to help with her boots: _Was he helping the invalid, or touching his date?_ Jasper gently stroked Alice's arm, lulling her to sleep. Before film's end, he was asleep, too.

Alice came out of her slumber and reached up to touch her face. She was drooling. _Very attractive, Alice. _She blinked her eyes open and stared at the handsome sleeping face of Jasper. Closing her eyes, she began to drift off again. _Oh, shit—I have to call Bella._

Bella was instrumental to Alice at night. When Alice's muscles could take no more, Bella's took over—bathing her, dressing her, and lifting her into bed.

Alice winced as she sat up to get a better look at Jasper's watch. It was after 3:00 am. _Shit, shit, shit._

Alice battled against her aching muscles to bring herself to a sitting position on the couch. By the end of day, muscles she did not know she had screamed in pain, while others atrophied. She could hardly lift her arms, but tried to use them to move her legs. She got one foot on the floor when she heard him.

"Alice?" Jasper rasped.

"Oh, hi. I fell asleep."

"Me too… shit, it's nearly 3:30."

"I know."

Jasper rubbed her back. "It's late, I should go."

"Okay." Alice got her second foot on the floor. She could now look at him, but chose not to. "I'll walk you out… well, you know what I mean."

Reaching for the chair, she took a big breath.

"Let me help."

"No. I've got this."

She sat frozen, trying to muster enough strength to shift into the chair.

"Please." Jasper's voice was soft as he lifted her into the chair.

Jasper put his shoes back on, stood and looked around, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. "Wait… Bella isn't here."

"Um, no. She's at Edward's."

He frowned and looked around again before looking into Alice's worried eyes.

"Obviously, I find this couch quite comfortable. I'll sleep here."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Alice waved her hand. "I'm fine on my own."

He shook his head, seriously. "Sorry, doctor's orders. I need to stay."

"You're a PhD, not an MD," she teased.

"Please don't tell my mother that, she doesn't know the difference."

Jasper followed Alice to the linen closet where he reached an extra pillow and blanket. She offered him a new toothbrush, and together, they brushed their teeth.

Alice looked up at him, toothbrush in hand. "Let me see your teeth." He held his finger up, then rinsed before showing Alice his brilliant smile.

"Well, I'll be damned. You do have teeth." She continued brushing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Alice rinsed.

"Since you never smile; I wasn't sure."

"What do you mean? I always smile."

"You don't smile, you grin. You should really show those teeth of yours."

Jasper leaned against the wall, looking at her.

Alice raised her brows. _I've got your number Jasper. Now I need to figure out how to make you smile. _

"Who's grinning now, Ms. Brandon?"

Alice shooed Jasper out of the bathroom so she could finish getting ready for bed. When he narrowed his eyes, she insisted that there were things she could do alone.

When she came out of the bathroom, she saw Jasper had made a comfortable bed for himself on the couch, and was waiting by her bedroom door.

"All done?" he asked, as Alice wheeled into her bedroom.

"Almost. I'll only be a minute," Alice said, beginning to close the door.

Jasper stopped the door with his hand. "Good. It's our second date, and I still expect a goodnight kiss."

Alice leaned her face into the small opening of the door. "We'll see."

When the door clicked shut, Alice's smile disappeared. _Ok, Alice, you can do this._ Quickly, she wheeled herself to the dresser and retrieved a pair of pajamas. It was a simple, pink camisole and shorts. She preferred the pajamas currently in the laundry, but they would suffice.

She placed the pajamas on her lap and reached behind her back until she found the skirt's zipper, but she could only unzip an inch two before it got stuck. _This is not happening. _Up, down, up, down—the zipper continued to stick in the same place.

_Okay, okay, okay. Just pull off the skirt, that's all, pull it off. _

Alice grabbed the hem of her leather skirt and pulled with all of her might. For all of her effort, Alice only succeeded in stretching the leather. Digging her thumbs into the waist of the skirt, Alice pushed down the leather, but could only get it so far. Not far enough. She tried rolling down the waistband, but it was no use.

_Forget about the skirt, Alice. Get these leggings off. _Alice reached her hand under her skirt and could feel the elastic waistband, but without someone helping to lift her from the chair, the attempts were futile. Alice pulled at the material until her frustrations lead her to rip a hole in the leggings high on her right thigh. She widened the hole until she ripped clear to the other side. She gave a good tug, severing the material. It fell to her ankle and pooled there like a poor imitation for a legwarmer.

Alice's rage peaked. She threw a temper tantrum in the chair, beating her fists into her thighs and thrashing her head back and forth, her short hair whipping repeatedly in her face. In her last act of frenzy, Alice balled up her pajamas and chucked them across the room. They hit the wall and slid down behind her desk.

_FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuck_

Alice took a deep breath and returned to her dresser. She reasoned that she could put on a pajama top and hide her legs under the bedcovers. Jasper would be none the wiser. But there were no pajamas there; they were in the wash. _Oh, for fuck's sake._ She grabbed a t-shirt, but then realized she would not be able to pull herself into bed without help, and her plan to hide the disaster of her skirt and leggings was useless.

For a moment, Alice considered rocking her chair back and forth until it tipped over so she could reach her pajamas. But she knew her wheelchair, which she had affectionately named Ruth, was designed to prevent such a tip over.

"Well, Ruth," Alice said aloud, "we're fucked."

There was a brief knock at the door. "May I come in?"

"Just a minute," Alice called, though she knew another minute wouldn't help matters.

"I'd like to come in, please."

Alice sighed, knowing she had lost the battle of the skirt. "Come in."

Jasper opened the door and took a quick look at the out of breath, rumpled Alice, with one bare leg.

"Are you always this stubborn?" he asked as he walked to her and knelt down.

"Yes," she muttered.

"Good to know."

Alice wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned on his shoulders getting leverage to lift her hips out of the chair.

Though she could hear Jasper working on the zipper, she could not feel him. Over the past week since the surgery, Alice's pelvis had gone from painful, to uncomfortable, to numb.

"The zipper is stuck," she said.

"I see that." Jasper placed Alice back in the chair and glided his hand down the leather covering her hip. "I like this skirt. I don't want to ruin it," he said moving his hand back up.

More than anything else that Alice experienced or could not experience since the accident, this very moment—the absence of feeling his touch—was the most disheartening.

"Rip it."

Jasper reached behind her and Alice held onto his shoulders, simply because she wanted to. She inhaled his expensive woodsy scent. A with a forceful jerk, the zipper tore open.

Jasper sat back on his heels. "Do you sleep in the nude?"

"What? No… well, sometimes."

His lips twitched.

"Pajamas?"

"They're um… they're behind the ah, behind the desk there."

He turned behind him and eyed the desk; when he turned back to Alice, his blue eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Don't laugh at me. Go get the pajamas." Alice pushed his shoulder.

Jasper retrieved the pajamas and shook them out before he laid them over his arm. "I won't ask how they got back there."

"Good, because I'm not telling you."

"So, do you give everyone a hard time, or is it only me?"

"I think it's everyone," she said sincerely.

"Darn. I thought I was special."

"Oh, you're special."

Jasper knelt before Alice with her pajamas in his hands. She was not sure how to proceed. She wanted Jasper to be her lover… someday, but not her nursemaid.

"Top first?" He reached for the hem of her shirt.

"I can take my top off myself." She lifted her shirt to stomach, then stopped. "Are you going to close your eyes?"

"No. Alice, I told you I'm a gentleman, but I'm no fool."

Slowly, Alice pulled her shirt over her head, glad for the opportunity to hide her huge smile.

"Now you see that, if I'd closed my eyes, I wouldn't see this lovely garment right here." The bra was pink with black lace; it pushed up Alice's small breasts giving her the more womanly shape she always desired.

Jasper ran his finger under Alice's bra strap, from behind her shoulder to the top of her breast. He continued to trail his finger over the place where lace met skin to the small cluster of pearls at the meeting of her breasts. Jasper leaned in and placed a single kiss in the hollow of Alice's throat. She tilted her head back and nearly whimpered at the feel of his soft lips.

When he sat back, his expression was serious and professional again. He didn't look in her eyes; rather, he stared at Alice's hips in the chair.

"What's your sensitivity level?"

It took Alice a moment to understand his question.

"My pelvis?"

"Yes."

"Minimal."

"Numb?"

Alice said nothing, but when Jasper met her eyes, she gave a small nod. "Temporary," she murmured.

"I'll be gentle."

Jasper leaned in again, and Alice wrapped her arms around his back as he lifted her a few inches from the chair. She could feel nothing until his hands reached her thighs, but hoped he was leaving on her panties. _Oh, this is so humiliating. _

Carefully, Jasper rested Alice back in her chair as he slowly pulled off her skirts and tights over her feet. Glancing down, she exhaled her relief to see her panties still on her body.

He pulled away her clothes and wrapped his hands around Alice's calves. Jasper took his time stroking her legs from the heels of her feet to the back of her knees. The room was nearly silent; all that could be heard was their heavy breaths. Eventually, Jasper bent down and kissed each knee.

"You have very sexy knees."

Alice's breath hitched. Jasper looked up and stared at Alice for several seconds, his controlled expression, impossible to read.

"I think we should finish getting you dressed… don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

As Jasper helped Alice dress, she thought about Jasper sleeping on the couch. _Which would be more maddening, him out there or in here? _

When Jasper stood to pull back the bedcovers, Alice surreptitiously removed her bra from under her shirt and ditched it behind her bedside table.

Wanting to show her independence, Alice wheeled herself to the bed and said, "I have this." But she didn't have this. She always relied on a lift from Bella to get into bed. She paused. "Actually, Jasper…"

Before she could continue her sentence, Jasper lifted Alice, placed her into bed, and pulled the covers over her.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked looking down at her and moving the bangs from her eyes.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch. I can't roll."

He looked at her with a confused expression.

"You'll have most of the bed. I can't roll."

"Ms. Brandon, are you asking me to share your bed with you?"

She rolled her eyes, "Are you going to make me ask you again?"

"No. I just wanted to be certain I understood you." He took off his shoes and socks, and then placed them neatly by the door.

He walked to the dresser, removing his watch. He emptied his pockets, and made a small pile including his wallet, cell phone, and loose change.

"It's a good thing I'm staying in here. I don't want you hurting yourself in the middle of the night." He walked around to the other side of the bed, still clothed, and pulled back the covers. Alice started to wonder if he liked her after all. _No, he likes you, Alice. The bra, the kiss… he likes you._ _Let him know you like him…_

"I showed you my panties…" she said before he lay down.

He arched his brow, "So I am to show you mine?"

_Shit, he's hard to read. _

"No. I mean… you can make yourself comfortable, that's all." Alice closed her eyes and internally winced at her failed flirtation. She wished she had the ability to roll away and bury her face.

"Fair is fair," he said, pulling the sweater that matched his eyes over his head. Alice watched him undress as he grinned at her.

Jasper had a swimmer's build—wide shoulders, narrow waist, and thin, tall. She could see every ripple of his muscular frame and a faint tan line above the low waist of his boxer briefs. _Damn, you're hot. _

"I sleep in the nude, but since you only asked to see my underwear, I guess I'll keep my boxer briefs on."

_Oh, you are a flirt, aren't you?_

Jasper folded his black trousers and Alice tried very hard not to stare at the soft swell in his boxer briefs.

_He definitely likes me._

Jasper got into bed, turned on his side, and propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head in his hand.

"So, do I still get my good night kiss?"

"Yes."

Jasper slid his fingertips under the hem of Alice's camisole, and glided his hand across her stomach, resting it on the curve of her waist. With his thumb, he made small circles on the bottom of her ribcage.

His blue eyes danced over her body, from her face to her toes, then rested back on her chest. "Look at that. You took your bra off." He inched his hand up, his circling thumb grazing the bottom of Alice's breast.

Alice could not respond—the darkening pools of blue, his parted lips, and the deep noise that came from his chest when he exhaled hypnotized her.

"Do you keep your bra with the rest of your clothes, behind the desk?" _He's making jokes, now?_

"You shouldn't make fun of people with special needs," she whispered.

Jasper frowned, but did not stop his slow circles. "Special? The only thing special I see is your inability to fight me off." Jasper inched his hand higher, his fingers on the side of Alice's breasts. "Since I can't read your body, I'll have to trust your words. Do you want to fight me off, Alice?"

"No," she breathed.

"Good. I like you."

Alice still could not speak as she looked at his beautiful face hovering above her. Slowly, her hands slid up his shoulders and held his face as he lowered himself even closer to her.

"Do you like me, Alice?" Jasper dragged his nose down hers.

"Yes," she said, threading her fingers in his hair.

Jasper brushed his lips over hers.

Alice's mouth watered, her nipples hardened, and she was certain that if she could feel anything below the belt, she'd feel her insides liquefy.

Jasper glided his thumb over Alice's nipple and kissed her. His kiss was slow and soft. He took Alice's bottom lip between his own. She felt his tongue sliding over her lip, and opened her mouth, inviting him.

Tentatively, Alice slipped her tongue over his before following Jasper's lead, and entering his mouth. Alice's hand moved to Jasper's jaw and she moaned quietly as he deepened the kiss.

She felt his hand move away from her breast, to her ribs, and then his touch disappeared from her senses. Alice was jarred out of her moment of passion. She broke the kiss and glanced down at his hand on her hip.

Jasper followed her eyes, and glided his hand back up her shirt. "I think we should stop… don't you?"

Time suspended. Alice could feel her heart beat in her ears as she fought an internal war between letting her hand reach to where he was pressing against her, or ending the evening here-wanting more, so much more.

"Yes," she croaked in a small voice.

"Yes, what?" he murmured against her jaw.

_Yes, fuck me._

"Yes… we should, we should stop."

As Jasper circled his thumb over her nipple one last time, then pulled away. She assured herself that, although she couldn't feel him, he must be as aroused as she.

He looked at her for several seconds before leaning back down, and giving her a chaste kiss. "Good night, Alice."

"Good night, Jasper."

Alice turned off her bedside lamp. Jasper rolled onto his stomach, but turned his head towards her and placed his hand on her abdomen.

She wanted to spoon. She couldn't spoon. Sleeping this way made Alice feel like a corpse. Really, she yearned to be on her stomach.

Jasper lifted his head from the pillow. "You don't like sleeping on your back, do you?"

"How did you know?"

"I could sense it," he shrugged. "Is it recommended that you sleep on your back?"

"No." Alice gave a small smile, and continued in a quiet voice. "I used to be a stomach sleeper, but I can get into my wheelchair on my own if I start on my back, so…" she gave a shrug and was surprised to feel her eyes fill with tears.

Jasper turned to his side and placed a hand on her hip. "Instruct me on how to do this."

"What?"

"Get you onto your stomach. Should I roll you or lift you and place you back down?" It was as if Jasper flipped a switch transforming himself back into serious, professional mode. Alice remembered his words from the other day: _I'm a scientist at heart… I like a challenge._

"I can do it myself," she said, twisting her upper body until she could plant both hands on the bed. Rocking herself, she tried to create enough momentum to flip over onto her stomach.

After a few long second, Jasper moved to his knees. "Let me help," he said, delicately placing his hands on either side of her hips and guiding her onto her stomach.

Alice closed her eyes, relishing the feeling once again of lying on her stomach. It had been weeks. She slid her hands under her pillow and exhaled a long sigh.

"Better?"

"Much. Thank you."

"Alice…" his tone was cool. Alice's eyes sprang open. "I want to support you in your endeavors to be self sufficient, but you are going to have to be more forthright when you require help. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Okay. Good night."

"Good night," she muttered, dazed.

Alice turned her head away from Jasper. It wasn't his words, but his tone, that cut her. She squeezed her eyes shut. _Alice Brandon, do not cry. Do not cry. You will scare him away. You are better than this, Alice. You are lucky to be alive. This is nothing. _But it was no use. The wheelchair, the dependence, the numbness, the kiss… the long week had taken its toll and her brave exterior began to shatter.

_I met him too soon._

Internally, she scolded herself for inviting Jasper into her bed. Now, as tears streamed down her cheeks, the most she could hope for was to suppress any sounds that would give away her melt down. Her nose was running. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her opened mouth, counting the seconds until he would fall asleep.

The bed shifted.

"Jesus," he whispered. Jasper placed his hand on Alice's shoulder, "Alice… please look at me."

"No, thank you. I'd like to go to sleep now."

"I'm sorry, Alice." He tone was compassionate. The same thumb that made circles over her breast was now making circles on the nape of her neck.

"It's okay. I know I'm frustrating… my personality is frustrating."

"What? No, no it's not. Please look at me."

Alice wiped her face on the corner of her pillowcase, and turned her head, grateful for the room's darkness. Jasper held an expression she'd hadn't seen before—somehow younger and vulnerable. His face was only inches from hers.

"Alice, since the minute I met you, I've been watching you push your limits and living in fear you're going to hurt yourself… more than you already are."

_Living in fear?_

He moved a lock of her short hair behind her ear. "You have to be careful, Alice. Your independence is admirable… but you are risking a big injury. Please, I don't want to see you hurt. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it the way I did."

She nodded. "My physical therapist yells at me."

Jasper brushed his thumb over her damp cheek.

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

Alice chuckled. "No. Thank you."

Alice looked at the man of her dreams, the man she had been waiting for, and envisioned the many ways she would scare him away.

"Jasper, maybe I should call you in a couple of months when I'm out of the chair."

Jasper frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I know I'm a handful right now. Maybe this would work better if we got together in a few months."

"Oh." He looked at her for a long time. "Alice, do you want me to go away?"

"No," she whispered.

"Alright. Call me in a few months when you get out of the chair… but I hope to talk to you everyday until then, too."

Alice felt too wary to smile.

"Alice, I don't want to go away. In fact, I can't remember the last time I met someone whose company I enjoyed more." He scanned her face. "Am I frightening you?"

"No. I like what you said."

"Good." Jasper held her chin, angled his head and gave her an awkward kiss.

Alice closed her eyes. Exhaustion giving her a gentle push, she began to float into a blissful sleep when his husky whisper pulled her back.

"Alice?" She pried her eyes open to see not a trace a sleep in his. "Before you fall asleep, you need to know I was wrong earlier…" Fighting her heavy lids, she felt Jasper slip his hand under her pillow. He covered her hand with his own. Their fingers did what their legs could not, intertwining and curling together. "Alice, you are special, so very special."

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I have more of their story I'd like to tell. Let me know if you're interested.

I'd love to know what you think.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	21. Teaser Chapter Thirty

Hello All.

I've been traveling and, thus, a little behind on this chapter. I hope the teaser will keep hold you over for a few more days.

Warning, this has not been beta'ed. ;)

We pick up in Sparrow's office.

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She Gives Me Religion  
Teaser  
Chapter 30

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From the MMPI, to Beck's Depression Inventory, to The PTDS checklists, and the Bi-Polar Diagnostic Scale—Monday was a full morning of testing. It's not Dr. Sparrow's fault. I forced his hand by being so tightlipped during our first session. He had nothing to go on.

"Okay, go ahead, give it to me." I brace myself.

"Edward, there is nothing here that isn't manageable."

"Really…? Can you be more specific?"

"You're showing a high score in anxiety. More specifically, you are still suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

_Not __surprised._ "Okay, okay… anything else."

"Well, the only thing of note is Dysthymia—mild depression—probably related to the PTSD." Jasper is good. I think I owe him dinner or something.

"So that's the only thing… or the only thing of note?"

He laughs. "Edward, I'm not used to having clients so familiar with the tests. Is there something specific you're interested in?"

"Um… yeah, yes, there are a few things." He waits, as I go through all the fears I listed this week in my mind. "So, no Bi-polar?" He shakes his head. _Oh,__thank __God_. I reconsider going through my full list of concerns, but he said that there was nothing else of note, and I want to leave it at that.

"I'd like to talk about the PTSD for a few minutes. Have you suffered any panic attacks?"

"Yes. I used to have them pretty frequently in the first year or two after my parents passed."

"And recently?"

"Um… how recent?"

"You tell me. The past year? Few months?"

_Fuck.__ I__ don__'__t__ know__ what __to__ tell __him. __Do __I __mention __the __times __with __Bella__—__the__ couch,__the __Valium?__ Were __those __even__ panic __attacks? __No,__too __much __back-story,__we __haven__'__t __gotten__ that __far.__ Wait__… _"Yes, I had one a little over a month ago."

"What were the circumstances?"

"A funeral." I close my eyes and settle back in my chair, listening to him scribble on his legal pad.

"Someone close to you died?"

"No. I was there to support a friend."

That day seems a year away. I remember sitting in the church parking lot waiting to see her—my beautiful, sad girl. Things were so different back then. _She__ was __different._

"Was that your first funeral since your parents died?"

"No. I've been to plenty… It was the music." _And __Bella._ "They had a children's choir singing Fauré Requiem… _Pie__ Jesu_…That piece, that piece… I have difficulty with that piece."

"The piece was played at your parents' funeral?"

My mind shifts from Mike's funeral to my parents.'

"Yes."

"I'm sure that funeral was traumatic for you."

"Yes." _I can tell this story to someone who really doesn't care._ I open my eyes momentarily to see he's still writing. _No,__ he __doesn__'__t __care. _"The music played when we went to the front of the church to carry the caskets."

"You were a pallbearer for your parents?"

"Yes." I open my eyes to see his concern, and close them again. "There were a lot of people there to help, but it was a double funeral… so we needed a several pallbearers. It wasn't in the plan. I wasn't supposed to be a pallbearer."

_It's all so clear. The music. Seeing these men lining up to carry my mom and dad, and me watching from the pew. It was painfully wrong._

"I wanted to carry my mom. So… so I went up there… but I was hurt."

"Hurt?"

"My hands were injured." _Should __I __explain?__ No,__ it__'__s __too __much;__ we__ haven__'__t __gotten __that __far __yet. _"You see, I just wanted to carry my mom. I wanted to do that for her… and carry her for my dad, he would have wanted that."

I open my eyes briefly to see him watching me. I wipe away silent tears with the back of my hand and continue, "So, I tried, but with my hands, I couldn't support the weight. It… she… she sort of dipped for a second. It wasn't bad. I didn't drop her, but everyone in the church made this sound, and started to whisper. I just couldn't carry her. Someone pulled me away. I stood there and watched other people carrying my mom and dad away from me."

Dr. Sparrow silently watches me. I try to blow this off with a shrug. "Yeah, so, that's it. I think the music set off a little panic attack."

"I see."

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Yes. A little back story.

More soon,

Liz x


	22. Teaser Outtake: The Scientist

This is a fandom fundraiser teaser for the SGMR outtake, The Scientist.

Tammi (aka PattzStewGlobal) lost her son in a tragic car accident two weeks ago. Though there is an auction raising money to help defer funeral costs, this chapter is not for bid—it will go to **anyone **who can donate a few dollars.

**Please simply send me a receipt with "The Scientist" in the subject line and I will email the outtake by December 15th. **

More details can be found here: http:/welcome-to-the-rileys-saturday(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2011/10/auction-to-raise-funds-for(dot)html

Just use a dot in the places it says.

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Outtake for Tammi Teaser  
She Gives Me Religion

The Scientist

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Alice watched Jasper slowly massage her denim-covered pelvis with two slender fingers. He worked in slow circles—back and forth—from her hipbone to her fly, then on to the other side. Up and down, along each tooth of the zipper.

It was a meticulous spiral pattern, not a centimeter of flesh absent from his touch, though it still felt as if she were watching him work over someone else's body.

"It's itching… from the inside, it's itching," she said looking up to him, her head on his lap.

"It's healing. We like healing," Jasper smirked, and splayed his large hand across her pelvis.

He reached his other arm over Alice, took his glass of bourbon from the coffee table, and raised the glass to his lips with a mischievous look in his eyes. Instead of taking a sip, he sucked a sliver of meting ice into his mouth. Alice watched him roll it around his tongue. She wanted to be that piece of ice. Sliding over and under his tongue, melting inside the warmth of his mouth.

From his proud expression, it was obvious he was devising some sort of plan.

"Should I be concerned about the look on your face?" she asked, with one raised brow.

"Yes." He said seriously, and swallowed a mouthful of the dark liquid, never breaking his stare. He placed the glass back on the table and ordered, "Up," supporting Alice's shoulders as she rose to a sitting position. Quickly, he stood, lifted Alice in his arms, and dipped her saying, "Grab the glasses."

"Got 'em."

When she had both glasses, Jasper spun her around and headed toward the bedroom.

"Hey, what about Ruth?" Alice asked with a smile, looking over to her wheelchair.

"Ruth is staying in the living room. I don't want her to watch."

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Want more? Please donate-it is a good cause. I'll be back home by the end of the weekend and will be able to respond to more of your reviews and questions regarding the story proper. Hang in there.

Be well,

Liz x


	23. Outtake: Lion's Den

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for your response to the latest chapters. I hope you understand that I didn't hold this scene back to play with your emotions—it is simply a hard read for some. You will not need to read to keep up with the story proper—but, of course, I am hoping you do read.

If you read the last chapter early, I mistakenly said this was a T & E outtake, but it is V & E.

Thank you to the lovely group of women: **xoEMC**, **orangeapeal,**** Sunshine ****(aka**** TessUderground) **who beta-ed this chapter, and** robsjenn.**

Deleted scene from Chapter Thirty-three, Three Witches…

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She Gives Me Religion  
Outtake  
Lion's Den

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There are two of her in front of me, I blink until she merges into one.

"Edward, listen," she holds my jaw, stabilizing my wobbling head. "You and I are no different."

I laugh and squeeze my eyes shut. "Yes, yes, we are…"

"No we aren't. We are two heartbroken people looking for comfort."

She's the devil.

_She speaks the truth. Fuck it, Edward… what are you hanging onto? _

"Come… let me care for you."

Maybe she's an angel.

NO! screams in my head, and then the voice of reason comes… You have no reason to struggle. No one to struggle for. Bella is gone.

"Come." Victoria takes my hand and I submit.

A few yards down, we are walking up the stairs to her apartment above a store.

A harsh florescent light illuminates the staircase.

I see her body sway as she takes each step.

Her red curls falling over the white fur draped over her shoulders.

Her high heel boots clicking on each wood step.

"Come in."

I enter the Lion's den, leaving my armor at the door.

I leave my body, too.

Watching, wondering what will take place.

Victoria closes the door and I press my back against it for balance.

I've sobered in my mind, but my body, my mouth, my racing heart, are beyond my control-useless. Drunk and uncoordinated, I simply stay where I am and watch her.

My unfocussed eyes skim her apartment—one huge studio space. Hard wood floors that mark each step she takes with those boots. There is one wall of floor to window ceilings looking out on the street below.

_Who will see me in here? _

Victoria takes off her fur and lays it on one of the many chairs scattered throughout the living space. Each chair of is unique, old, found—like everyone who has lived here left their furniture for the next.

The Lioness and her den battle for my attention. My eyes float to the series of dark tapestries that cover the walls. I cannot make out the images; the entire place is a soft glow lit by several lamps she turns on as she walks throughout.

"Like my apartment?"

I look to my right to see she is in the open kitchen, pouring amber liquid into two small glasses.

Her plump, red lips widen into a smile as she approaches me. Her walk alone is a seductive dance.

"To us." She clinks the glasses together, then hands one to me.

Like a weight, I hold the glass down to my side.

"I made a toast… don't you want to drink to my toast?"

She is in complete control, and I am floundering, a mess. My tongue is heavy and dry. I can't speak.

Taking pity she asks, "You don't want to drink?"

I shake my head quickly, like a child.

"Glass of water?"

I nod, unable to meet her eyes.

"It's alright, Edward, you can have water," she murmurs, bringing her soft hand to my face. She strokes her thumb across my cheekbone.

I close my lids and pretend the hand belongs to someone it does not.

Soon, it is gone, and I hear her heels click away.

The faucet.

Heels return and she is pressing the glass into my hand.

I drink, too quickly, and my stomach roils.

Looking up at the ceiling, I feel the ridges of the wooden door on the back of my head.

"You are really drunk, aren't you, Edward?" Victoria stretches out her words, like a hypnotizing song.

I nod, preferring her interpretation to the truth. I am fucking falling apart.

"Well, you need to sit down."

Hooking two fingers around mine, she leads me from the door. We walk past the odd collection of chairs, through the kitchen, and past a folding screen into her bedroom.

"Sit. I'll be right back."

I plop down into am armchair covered in fabric, warn thin. The old chair has no springs. I sink down and take my glass of water from the bedside table next to me, swallowing several small sips.

_Oh, fuck. What am I doing here? How did I get here? She brought me here._

Bella was right... that night in the street…

_I'll tell you something else Edward, you better stay away from her because I just made the fight for you a hundred times more interesting. You think she came on to you before? Watch out._

The devil lured me here. Victoria's apology at the bar—it was a farce, there's no remorse, compassion… this was her plan. We are predator and prey.

I hear the water running in the bathroom—I have to escape.

_Stay right here, you pussy. So she wants to use you. Use her. Fuck her. _

No, no, no… I can't. It's not me.

_How much longer will you wait until you finally get laid again? Another twenty-six years?_

I have to go.

_Fuck her. Get it over with, then you can move on. _

Move on. I need to move on.

_That's right. This is the first step to moving on. Be a man for once in your life. No guilt. No feelings. You can do whatever you want to her. _

But I don't want to do anything with her.

_Fuck one to forget the other. _

Everything is wrong, so wrong. Being here doesn't make Bella fade; it just makes the image of her burn that much brighter.

Suddenly, Victoria is in front of me, sitting on the edge of the bed, so close our knees are nearly touching.

"Feeling better?"

_No._

"Yes."

"Good, Edward. I'll take care of you."

Her voice is soothing—I know it's not real, but reality no longer matters—this must be a dream. I allow myself to sink further.

"Help me with this?" She places her foot on the edge of my chair, between my legs. Pointing her toe, we almost make contact and I feel a stir—something I haven't felt in my waking life since She left.

I shift, pulling away, and pressing my back into the chair.

Opening her leg, she shows me the zipper of her boot.

I stare at it, and she prompts, "Edward?"

I take the zipper between my thumb and finger, stretching the leather away from her skin as I drag it down her calf.

She wore boots like these. I remember taking them off of her. She laughed when I threw them over my shoulder. It was the first night I tasted her.

_Pull your shit together, Masen, stop thinking of Her. Look at the gorgeous creature in front of you. So willing. _

I take off her boot and watch myself unzip the second. The air is so heavy. Holding the heel, I pull off the second boot. Victoria places her bare feet back on the chair, on either side of me, forcing my knees together. I begin to swell, pushing against the fabric of my jeans.

Her dress is stretched over her knees, but she is open in front of me. For me.

I can hear only my quick pants as I close my eyes and feel her place my hands on the smooth skin of her calves. My hands drop down to her ankles and I hear… a sigh, a laugh… I don't know, but I fear opening my eyes.

Familiarity takes over, and I start to circle my thumbs over her ankles.

Now I hear both of our breaths.

I inch my hands up and continue the circles over soft skin.

_She had soft skin. _

Further—my hands around her calves.

She is warm, and I am always so cold.

When my fingers reach the sensitive spot behind her knees, I hear the sharp intake of breath. I stop.

Taking one of my hands in hers, she inches it further up her leg—inside her thigh.

_Stop, Edward. _

I yank my hands away, and flash my fearful eyes to hers.

Smiling, she tilts her head. "We're just having some fun, Edward."

"Right," I say, so quietly I don't know if she can hear me.

Her hands wrap around my knees. "Edward, I have fun doing all sorts of things."

Even if I could speak, I have nothing to say, it's all so surreal.

"What's fun for you, Edward?"

She's waiting for an answer, so I try to speak.

"I… I… um…" I swallow and start again, wishing she would take over, fuck me and let me leave, "I…"

"Hush, it's okay. Mmm," she reaches up and moves my long bangs from my eyes, "you are so beautiful."

And then she's gone, walking to her armoire in the shadowed corner of her bedroom.

"You once told me you don't like leashes," she says with a new, hard edge in her voice, "I'm beginning to wonder if you were telling me the truth."

She swings open the armoire to reveal a series of hooks holding all sort of—implements. My first thought is that they are belts, but it's so much more. Even in the dim light, I can make out things that look like whips or horse whips or… _Oh, God…_

I finally start to put this all together when she reaches down for the hem of her dress and pulls it over her head in one sweeping move.

Under the dress, she is completely nude. I cannot look away. Creamy skin, glowing—her breasts, stomach, the curve of her hips… and she is completely bare. Hairless. It's so unexpected—wrong—so different from Her. The site is jarring, like I'm staring at a little girl.

I look away, my arousal evaporates.

"Edward," she's sitting in front of me again. I glance up to see she is wearing a short, silk robe.

In her hand is a leather strap. Without thinking I bare my palms and she lays it in my hands.

The leather fascinates me. Smooth, but sharp. Bringing my hands together, I make a loop, then snap it taught. Something dark awakens deep within me.

Her eyes are black, but alive. She laughs a feral sound.

_I want to beat her. _

_No… I want to be beaten. _

I want to feel the leather cut across my flesh. I want pain to sear me. I want to be transformed to another place and time.

Punishment.

Flagellant.

My heart-beat quickens. I snap the leather again.

"Anything you want, Edward. Do you want me to use this on you? Have you been bad?"

"Yes."

_Whip me. _

I want to feel so much pain, that I'll hear the voice of God… again.

_God, help me._

"Edward, have you ever been beaten and fucked…?"

She keeps talking, but I disappear to my memory of Halloween. Bella's ruler—our game—her fear of hurting me. Pleasure, not pain. Her laugh. My inability to spank her, hurt her in any from… but I did hurt her… didn't I?

I'm spiraling, lost…

My entire being shakes uncontrollably.

She keeps talking, "…how should I fuck you, Edward…"

Her hands slide up my thighs towards…

My cock shrinks.

_Edward, get out. _

I stand so quickly, the chair falls back onto the floor.

"I have to go, so sorry," I mumble as I dart for the door.

_That voice in my head—the voice of Bella? God?_

I no longer know if there is a difference.

I take the steps down three at a time, racing for the door.

Out in the cold darkness, I turn into the alley and vomit whiskey and mucus and any dignity I once had.

_I'm sorry, Bella._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

__And there we have it. Rock bottom? We'll see.

Oh, and Edward's reaction to a bare Victoria is just that-his reaction. I'm not trying to be political about our various preferences and choices about our bikini lines.

So, was it as angsty for you as it was for me?


	24. Teaser Chapter 37

She Gives Me Religion  
Teaser  
Chapter Thirty-seven

* * *

.

.

There is a flutter of sensation.

Then warm darkness.

.

.

There is a patchwork of florescent light behind my lids, muffled sound, and pain.

Then I fall back into my dark pool.

.

.

Something is placed over my face.

I know I am lying, comfortable, warm. It is all I know.

I cannot fight it the dark. I rest.

.

.

I sense the sound of women's voices—soothing and soft. Something cool touches the palm of my hand, brushes my knuckles.

The voice has a familiar silk—_Bella_. She's here, her velvet hand holding mine.

I fight to decipher words:

"…can't stay, dear."

"A few more minutes?"

'_Please, God, a few more minutes_,' I think.

Bella's hand warms against mine.

"It's Levaquin and Rocephin. They're antibiotics for the pneumonia."

"Are his numbers any better?"

"His pulse ox is improving."

The voices fall away again, just distant vibrations.

I swim against the current of my ink pool to stay with my Bella as long as I can.

There are kisses on my hand.

There are words broken by sobs.

"… I love you. Please come back to me, Edward."

_I will._

I float to the depths once again.

* * *

.

.

.

Be well,

Liz x


	25. Outtake: The Scientist

Dear Friends,

Thank you for your patience as cut through the messiness of the upcoming SGMR chapter. I know it has taken me a while.

In the meantime, I have this outtake for you. I originally wrote it to raise funds for a friend in the fandom who lost her son in a tragic car accident. The contributions went to help defer the funeral costs.

My beta and friend, Sunshine (aka Tess_Underground), helped a great deal… especially improving the lemon.

Enjoy…

.

.

* * *

She Gives Me Religion  
Fundraiser Outtake  
The Scientist

.

.

.

"A little boob action, that's all."

"Really?" Bella whispered to Alice, seated next to her on their apartment couch.

Alice looked over to Edward, talking on his phone and pacing in and out of the kitchen. He occasionally glanced over to the two women.

"I haven't even seen his—"

"Oh," Bella cut her off. "Do you think you're in the friendship zone?"

"No. It's not that. I can feel the… pull," she arched her brow and said wryly, "I can sometimes feel other things too, but I think Jasper might be afraid of… breaking me."

Bella sat quietly for a moment. "You know, you've only known him for a few weeks, Alice. I think it's sort of nice you're going slowly. Don't you?"

"Nice?" She tried the word again, "Nice… I guess one could call it _nice_."

_Not nice, 'frustrating,'_ Alice thought.

Though Alice was never one to jump into bed with a man, too much between Alice and Jasper had gone unspoken—their dynamic, still mysterious to her.

Alice felt their chemistry immediately, and before long, she and Jasper began sharing a bed together. But Alice could not help to wonder _why_ they shared a bed. _Was it simply due to doctor's orders? _

Much to Alice's disappointment, her doctor ordered that she could not yet spend her nights alone. In a week she might have the mobility to be solo, but at this point, it was still deemed too dangerous.

_Invalid. _

Though she loathed that description, it often slipped into her thoughts. Maybe spending time with Jasper gave Bella and Edward nights off from Alice duty. She couldn't help but to wonder what her evenings with Jasper might be like if it weren't for her broken pelvis.

"Hey, gang, I have an idea," Edward walked spryly into the living room with a grin slapped on his face. "How about we watch a little _Gilmore Girls_ and hang here tonight?"

_But Edward hates _Gilmore Girls… _and I have plans with Jasper tonight. _

Just then, Alice's phone rang. Seeing Jasper's number, she sweetened her voice. "Hello."

"Hey, Alice." Jasper's voice sounded deep, despondent.

"Hi, Jasper. Something wrong?"

"No… yes. I don't think I can do tonight."

She waited for more, but that was all he said.

"Um… okay… no problem." The sound of confusion laced her voice. "Hold on just a second." She shifted towards her wheelchair so she could talk privately.

"Edward, would you help me open a bottle of wine in the kitchen?" Bella broke in, offering Alice the space she needed. Alice smiled up at Bella as they left the living room.

"Bad day, Jasper?"

As he exhaled, she heard a low rumble in his chest. "Yes."

"Was it a court day?"

"Yes… a verdict day."

On occasion, Jasper conducted court-ordered evaluations and testified about the findings. He once told her of his disappointment in the legal system, about people being released that should be under more care, and she now understood the sound of his voice.

"Sorry, Jasper."

"It's alright. I would be very bad company tonight."

"Ahhh." The puzzle pieces fit together: Edward on the phone probably with Jasper, _Gilmore Girls_… they were making arrangements for Alice duty. "I see."

It surprised Alice that she didn't feel hurt—her own feelings seemed far way. Instead, she thought about Jasper and hoped to make him smile.

"So… how bad is it? Are you super-grumpy, or just a little bit?"

"You've never seen me like this, and at this point in our…. relationship, it would probably be best that your didn't."

_Relationship. _

"Oh, wow. That sounds super-grumpy."

She could hear him smile on the phone.

"I'm _moody_," he said, dragging out the 'o' sound in a playful manner.

"Oh. I love moody."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Makes me all hot and bothered." She tried her best phone-sex voice.

"I don't know, I'm not too pleasant right now," he flirted back with a new lightness to his voice.

"Pleasant is for pussies, I like moody."

He chuckled, "Well, Ms. Brandon, you have some mouth on you."

"Play your cards right, and I'll have some mouth on you."

"Mmmm." The guttural sound vibrated through the phone, into her ear, and down her neck.

"Let's not play games, Jasper…" Alice's voice turned authoritative.

"No, of course…" he began, bending at her will.

"If you want to be alone tonight, I respect that. If you want my company, I'll grab a bottle of bourbon and make my way over." Alice felt a surge of pride by her frankness.

"I'm already on my second glass."

"And…?"

"I'd like your head in my lap right now."

Alice's mouth dropped open at the image. Then she realized that he was probably referring to his favorite way for them to lay together—Jasper sitting on the couch, Alice's head in his lap, staring up at him.

"I'll grab a cab and be there in ten."

"No," he snapped. "I shouldn't drive, but I'll take cab and come get you."

"Jas- "

"We are not arguing about this, Alice. The streets are filled with psychopaths. You are not going to take a cab alone… at night. Do you understand me?"

A warm flush spread through the tops of her thighs, to the place where sensation disappeared. She never liked being treated like a little girl, but Jasper sounded so damn sexy, she thought her lame legs for carry her, running to his condo.

"Um… Alice…" She looked up to see Edward peering out of the kitchen and Bella's head craning behind him. They looked comical. "Do you need a ride somewhere?" Edward asked.

_They were listening. Of course they were. I'd listen, too. _

"It's okay, Jasper. I think the kids are going to drop me off."

`~0~'

As they approached Jasper's condo, she could see him leaning up against the exterior wall of the condo's entrance. His arms were crossed and he was still wearing a suit—dark, maybe navy, as far as she could see. But his tie was loose and the top shirt buttons were undone.

When they pulled to the curb, Alice heard the pop of Edward's trunk.

"Night, honey," she said to Bella, and scooted herself to the car door.

"Good luck," Bella whispered back, grabbing Alice's hand for a good squeeze.

Jasper opened the car door as Edward unfolded the chair. With a little help, she slid over to the chair.

"Thank you, Edward," Alice said as he and Jasper shook hands.

"You're welcome." Looking down with his boyish smile, Edward placed a kiss on her forehead.

Jasper wheeled Alice to the sidewalk and stood behind her while they watched Bella wave from the car and Edward pull away.

"God, they are sweet," she said.

"I know. I think I just got a cavity," Jasper said in a dry tone.

"Kids today." Alice shook her head.

Jasper moved his hands to either side of Alice's face. He placed his fingers gently under her jaw, cupping her face, as his thumbs brushed her earlobes.

Alice closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She could feel Jasper lean his long body over her. His breath was warm and smelled of bourbon—the faint smell of expensive cologne lingered on his clothes.

"I'm glad you came, Alice," he murmured.

"Glad you invited me."

She could feel her heart thump against her chest as he brushed his nose over hers, his thumbs never stopping their movement.

Though they were alone on the street, never had he been so public with his affection. The thought made Alice stop breathing.

His lashes fluttered over her chin. There was nothing awkward about his face, upside down, over hers. With expert precision, he took her lower lip between his own, and sucked it softly into his mouth.

Alice reached her hand up and slid her fingers through the short blond hair on the side of his head as his tongue entered her mouth—the top of his sliding over the top of hers. She inhaled his breath and let out a soft moan.

He stopped his movements and pulled away, as he often did when sounds of passion escaped her lips. With one more gentle kiss, he straightened up and wheeled her into his building.

Alice watched as Jasper began to work on their drinks. He filled two glasses with ice water, added ice to his own glass of bourbon, and filled a forth with just ice.

"Tell me everything," Alice said.

"You don't wanna hear about it."

Alice stifled her smile. Jasper had actually grumbled. The man with perfect articulation and precise diction was mumbling and grumpy, vulnerable and sexy as hell—maybe a little bit drunk, too.

He rolled up his shirtsleeves and looked over at Alice smiling up at him.

"Manhattan or straight bourbon?"

"Don't tell me a man like you keeps maraschino cherries in his fridge."

"Always."

"Good to know… but I'll have mine straight."

"I have ginger ale," he offered.

"Straight."

He opened the bottle of Woodford Reserve and poured the liquid into her glass, saying in a tired voice, "The woman knows what the woman wants."

After refreshing his own drink, he grasped all four between his long fingers, and carried them out into the living room. Alice followed closely behind.

Most nights were spent at Alice's apartment while Bella and Edward retreated to his condo, but Alice wanted Jasper to be in his own space tonight—and what a space it was.

His condo looked more like a modern showroom to her than a living space. It was so stark, that is was hard to believe anyone actually _lived_ there. The white carpet showed no wear. The walls were grey, barely. The furniture, black leather and chrome, mid-century with clean lines, had an uncomfortable look but a luxurious feel. The chrome of her wheelchair, called Ruth, fit right in.

Alice found his place beautiful, but sterile.

Jasper placed the drinks down on the glass coffee table.

"Thank you for coming over. I know your place is more…" he gestured with a glass of water, searching for the word, "homey."

"This place is homey, too," she said wheeling herself next to him as he sat on the couch.

Jasper rolled his eyes. "I think Esme would disagree with you. Throw pillows, curtains, fabric…" his voice trailed off.

"Esme? Did she help you with your place, too?"

"Yes. And Edward's, as I'm sure you know. Esme Cullen: real estate expert, an interior design natural, and mother to all." He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then raised his glass. "To Esme."

"To Esme." Alice lifted her glass of bourbon to his water and watched him carefully, trying to follow the twists and turns his mood took.

"So, throw pillows?" she asked.

"Yes. I have a bunch of swatches Esme gave me a couple of years ago. Never got around to choosing anything. So," he looked around, "no curtains, no throw pillows."

"Ahh. I see."

"Which reminds me…" Jasper stood and went into his bedroom, returning with a bed pillow cased in crisp white fabric.

Alice gave him a quizzical look.

"I told you, I want your head in my lap."

He helped Alice arrange herself on the couch, placed the pillow on his lap, and held her shoulders as she reclined back on him.

He inhaled deeply through his nose and looked into her eyes for the first time that night. "That's more like it." Jasper brushed her bangs from Alice's eyes. Her long, mink-colored lashes blinked slowly up at him.

"Do you like fabric swatches, Alice?"

She tried not to giggle at the sincere sound of the question.

"Oh, yes. I'm big into fabric swatches." Alice tried to match his tone.

"Good. Maybe you can help me with them someday." He tilted his head and continued to stroke her hair. He wasn't just looking at her, Alice thought, he was examining her, searching for something in her eyes.

Alice had never seen Jasper look so weary. The very fine lines showed around his tired, but beautiful, clear blue eyes.

"You know, Jasper. We could go to a store."

"A store?" His brows pulled together. "Do we need to get something?"

"No, not now. I mean, we could just see pillows and curtains in the store and pick out something you like."

"Hm. Sounds spontaneous." His smirk began to appear.

"It is. Very. You walk around and when you see a pillow you like, you buy it."

"No swatches?"

"Nope."

"Hmmm. And people do this all the time?" he teased.

"They do."

"And the pillows in your apartment…?"

"Mm-hm. I bought them without swatches."

"Huh. How about that." He took another sip of his water before leaning over her and picking up his glass of bourbon.

"No more water?"

"I feel sufficiently hydrated… It's all about pacing, Ms. Brandon."

He stretched his shoulders and made a deep, throaty sounds that said he was settling in.

"Tell me more about this pillow shopping."

Alice reached up and placed her hand on the side of his warm neck. "Tell me about your day, Jasper."

"It was… shitty." He waited for her reaction and continued to inspect her face.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Tell me."

He sighed, then began to speak.

Jasper did not stop speaking for a long time.

He was unguarded, chronicling each detail of a disastrous hearing. Jasper explained he recommended a 'defendant' be incarcerated and given intense psychiatric care.

Alice noticed that he never told her of the man's crime and she knew the omission was intentional, so she didn't push. In fact, Alice said nothing during the whole story. She simply listened, looked at him with compassion, and when he stumbled or paused, she nodded subtly, encouraging him to continue.

As he explained, instead of following Jasper's recommendation, the court released the man, giving him probation and mandatory counseling.

"So, that, my dear, is my day," he said taking another sip of his drink.

"It doesn't make sense," she said, not to argue, but to empathize.

"Exactly."

Alice reached for her drink and Jasper helped her up, and shifted to the corner of the couch, so that she could lean across his chest more than on his lap.

Jasper nuzzled her neck, and hummed.

Choosing to say nothing, Alice simply sat and enjoyed the comfortable silence as she tilted her head and exposed her long neck to his soft lips.

"You're so delicate," he whispered.

She bit her tongue, deciding not to argue.

"Promise me, no traveling alone… especially at night." He placed a kiss behind her ear.

It was a promise she did not want to make.

"Jasper, I'm tough. Look at these guns." Alice flexed her muscle and the sleeve of her chiffon black blouse tightened around her newly developed bicep.

Jasper felt her muscle and played along. "Those are some guns, alright. I should get a better look."

He started to unbutton her blouse with one free hand, and opened it to reveal a simple black camisole. Sitting up, she finished her drink and slipped the blouse off of her shoulders and rested her head back on his lap.

Jasper stretched her arm in the air and pressed a soft kiss onto her wrist, on the inside of her forearm, the crook of her elbow and on her bicep. He dragged his hand up and down her arm and finally said, "Please be careful. I know what's out there."

Alice rested her palm on his cheek. "I will."

He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. "Thank you."

_I'll do whatever you want, if you take me to bed. _The bourbon made Alice feel warm and her inhibitions slipped slowly away.

"Tell me about your day. Tell me about The Twitter."

_Why are you stalling? _

"Nothing to report."

He placed his hand on her stomach. "Physical Therapy today?"

"Mmm-hm."

He moved his hand in a circle. "Can you tell me about it?"

Physical therapy did not lend itself to storytelling, but Jasper clearly needed some story, some distraction, so Alice accommodated.

"Well, we had some drama today, a new nurse…"

"Really?" His eyes came alive.

Alice did her best at embellishing the mundane details of the day to give Jasper his much-needed entertainment. She even managed to make him chuckle a few times at the nicknames she gave her fellow patients: 'Johnny White Socks,' and 'Tommy Neck-less.'

As she spoke, Jasper's fingers made their way down the front of her body. Soon, there was no more story, no more laughing, just the heavy silence of desire.

Alice watched Jasper slowly massage her denim-covered pelvis with two slender fingers. He worked in slow circles—back and forth—from her hipbone to her fly, then on to the other side. Up and down, along each tooth of the zipper.

It was a meticulous spiral pattern. His touch did not miss a centimeter of flesh, though it still felt as if she were watching him work over someone else's body.

"Tell me how this feels."

"It's itching… from the inside, it's itching," she said looking up to him, her head on his lap.

"It's healing. We like healing," Jasper smirked, and splayed his large hand across her pelvis.

He reached his other arm over Alice, took his glass of bourbon from the coffee table, and raised the glass to his mouth with a mischievous look in his eyes. Instead of taking a sip, he sucked a sliver of meting ice into his mouth. Alice watched him roll it around his tongue. It was obvious he was devising some sort of plan.

"Should I be concerned about the look on your face?" she asked, with one raised brow.

"Yes." He said seriously, and swallowed a mouthful of the amber liquid, never breaking his stare. He placed the glass back on the table and ordered, "Up," supporting Alice's shoulders as she rose to a sitting position. Quickly, he stood, lifted Alice in his arms, and dipped her saying, "Grab the glasses."

"Got 'em."

When she had both glasses of bourbon, Jasper spun her around and headed toward the bedroom.

"Hey, what about Ruth?" Alice asked, looking over to her wheelchair.

"Ruth is staying in the living room. I don't want her to watch."

Jasper carried her into the bedroom and leaned down so that Alice could place the glasses on the bedside table. He rested her on the bed and began to undress.

"Too many clothes," he said, with a slight alcohol-induced slur to his southern drawl.

"You or me?"

"Both. Everyone undress."

Alice laughed.

_FINALLY!_

Jasper pulled his dress shirt, still buttoned, over his head and tossed it on a club chair in the corner of his room. After he removed his belt, and unclasped the waist of his pants, they fell off of his thin frame to his ankles. Alice tried not to laugh as he stepped all over his feet trying to get them off.

His body was a perfect, thin-V. That slight tan line still showed above the waistband of his heather grey boxer briefs.

"What?" he asked, bashful but smiling, when noticing Alice's stare.

"You are one beautiful man."

He dropped his head and turned away, picking up his pants, and walking to the chair, giving her a view of the smooth skin over the rippled muscles of his back. He took off his socks and placed his pants over the chair, when he turned around the shy, intoxicated youthfulness had disappeared. He was back to being calm, confident, controlled Jasper.

Alice removed her camisole, leaving her in her black bra, and unbuttoned jeans.

"I'd like to take these off of you," he said, walking to her.

She nodded, wide-eyed, and Jasper gently placed his fingers in the waist of her jeans and pulled them over her slim hips, down her thighs, over her knees, and eventually freed her of them.

When he turned away from her to place her jeans over the chair, Alice felt a chill in the room. She fought the urge to cover herself, but ran her fingers around the sides of her black silk underwear to be sure the fabric covered her wounds where the bolts once entered her hips.

She tried not to stare at the swell in his briefs when he turned back around.

_Please, please, please… tonight, I want to see it all. _

He crawled into bed next to her, lay on his side, and propped up his head on his hand.

Alice swallowed her nerves. "Are you going to tell me your plans, or do I have to guess?"

"You say PT is going well… let's see how well. Close your eyes, Alice, no peeking."

She complied. Behind her eyelids, she imagined herself lying on the bed and hoped Jasper liked her pale skin.

There was silence. No sound. No vision. And then…

Touch.

His fingertip brushed the inside of Alice right knee. He brushed it back and forth like a paintbrush, moving just an inch higher with each pass.

_Oh, Good Lord. _

Alice took in gulps of air.

She felt his hand ghost over her inner thigh, then across to her outer thigh, then back towards her knee again.

"You can feel this?" He asked.

"Yes… yes, of course." Her voice trembled.

The fingertip was joined by another. Back and forth, more quickly this time, switching from nails to the pad of his fingers.

"Tell me when sensation disappears, I want to mark the progress… the healing," his tone was cool, but she couldn't mistake the husky underscore to the sound.

The feeling sharpened at her knees, but blurred as he made his way towards her underwear.

_Keep going. _

"Tell me, Alice."

He circled the soft flesh of her inner, upper thigh—a place that would normally send her spinning, but she felt little.

_Maybe I can lie. _

"The truth, Alice."

"Okay," she gave in, "right there. I don't feel much right there."

"Open your eyes."

Alice opened her eyes to see Jasper's finger just an inch from the apex of her thighs.

"You have a freckle right there," he said, staring at his finger.

"I don't have freckles."

"Yes you do. Well, it's a beauty mark then."

She looked at the small beauty mark next to his finger.

"This will be our marker." He said, and then looked up at her with concern. "If this is a new mole, we need to get it checked out. Do you have a dermatologist?"

Alice sighed, exasperated. The sound melted into a laugh.

"I know. I'm very romantic." Jasper smirked self-consciously and Alice ran her fingers through his hair. He leaned down and kissed the beauty mark. "Another conversation for another time?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, feeling her heart expand and spread warmth throughout her chest.

"Close your eyes."

"Again?"

"Yes." His voice was stern.

When she closed her eyes, she felt him reach over her body to the bedside table. The sound of ice rattling in the glass grazed her ear. Then one cold droplet of water splashed on the center of her chest.

She gasped.

She heard him snicker.

"I feel _everything _there."

"I can see that."

Alice's nipples puckered and Jasper's warm mouth reached the center of her chest, between her breasts. Slowly, his tongue slid over her skin, lapping up the water.

And then there was nothing….

Until the sharp sting of ice on the warm skin of her thigh.

"Let's try temperature sensitivity."

The slower Jasper went, the more Alice internally squirmed. She wanted him on top of her, inside of her—her mouth, her sex—she wanted to be devoured. But instead, he took his time, sliding the ice cube in a random pattern over her leg.

"Tell me when."

Alice's chest heaved and her arousal soared.

When she no longer felt the ice, she whimpered at the loss. "There, right there, I feel nothing."

"Open your eyes."

Alice blinked open her eyes, but instead of seeing Jasper's finger marking a spot, she watched him suck the ice cube into his mouth, then grinning proudly.

"What was that?" She asked, frustrated.

"I needed a control for the experiment."

"A control…? You mean you took the ice away?" Alice whipped her head side to side on the pillow, amused and flummoxed by this man in her bed. She recalled her courses in science and social science, learning about experiments and control groups.

"What?" Jasper said grinning as he tried to read the expression on her face.

"Such the researcher," she laughed.

"Now we know for sure… it wasn't just in your mind. And look," he went on, reflecting her smile but sounding more interested in the project than the person, "it lines up with the freckle… we can check the progress over time."

_How did we get here? One minute he looks like he's about to go down on me, and the next, he's presenting a paper at a Psychology conference. _

"What's the matter," he asked, with his brows pulled together.

"Nothing." Alice pressed her lips together and attempted a smile.

She was certain that Jasper would suggest they turn in, as he often did when she wanted him most. But instead, his brow relaxed, his light eyes darkened, and he shifted to press his body against hers.

Jasper dug his hands into the Alice's hair, his face, hovering over hers. He pressed his forehead to hers, then turned his head, and kissed her.

His lips were soft, but the movement was forceful. As his tongue, chilled from the ice, entered her mouth, Jasper slid his hand down her chest, inside the silk cup of her bra and over her breast.

Alice couldn't help it. She moaned at the feeling of his hands, his thumb over her hard nipple. This time the sound did not stop his movement, but encouraged it.

Quickly, Jasper sat up on his knees, and moved to kneel between her legs.

He reached both hands between the bed and her back and unhooked her bra. Alice watched his fast movement, the fire of desire in his eyes, and the erection straining through his boxer briefs.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" He demanded.

"I… um…"

"Since the accident?"

"No."

Jasper leaned over her and cupped Alice's breast, lifting it into his mouth. He teased and taunted her nipple with his tongue—swirling, and sucking.

"Can you come this way?" His voice, still urgent.

"I don't know… I haven't…"

"I want to make you come."

_God, yes! Please, yes! _

Jasper moved onto her other breast, giving the same attention, the same delicious teasing. He ran his finger under the waistband of her underwear.

"Can you feel that?" he asked against her breast as he ran his fingers again.

"Yes. A little."

Alice threaded her fingers in his hair and gave a good tug.

"I want to feel your pussy."

Jasper slipped his fingers between the silk of her underwear and the silk of her skin.

Alice knew he reached the destination when he growled and thrust his erection into her leg.

"Fuck, Alice."

"I'm wet." She didn't want it to sound like a question, but it was.

"So fucking wet." His eyes scanner her face, her body—breasts and thighs. He inhaled deeply through his nose. "Your body is responding."

He pulled his fingers away and sat back up on his knees. The fingers glistened in the soft bedroom light.

The front of Jasper's grey boxer briefs turned dark and wet with his pre-come. He moaned as he slipped his wet fingers into his mouth.

"Please," Alice mewled, and reached for his thighs, "please, I want you inside of me."

"No… no, no, no. Not until it feels good for both of us."

"It will feel good… it will. Please."

"No, Alice, it's dangerous. You can't feel if something goes wrong."

"It will be alright…"

"No… wait…" Jasper closed his eyes then rubbed his hands over his face, trying to gather himself. Alice watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He took a deep breath, then removed his hands from his face. "I need to see all of you."

Alice knew at some point, she would have to show him her hideous scars, but it still frightened her. _So vain_, she scolded herself.

Jasper stepped off the bed, stood next to her, and hooked his fingers into her underwear. Before he pulled them down, he looked into her eyes and said, "Don't worry about the scars."

"You know about the scars?"

"Of course. I read up on your surgeries."

Her heart melted. "Really?"

"Yes… you're surprised?"

Alice shrugged one shoulder, then paused. _This was her Jasper, a thinker, guarded, suave, but sensitive. _"I guess I'm not so surprised," a content smile spread across her face, as he pulled her panties off of her.

He leaned over her hips and looked for a moment at the first wound, saying nothing, he placed a soft kiss there. He did the same with the second wound. Alice marveled at his gentleness.

Controlling a shy smile, he looked up at her and said, "And now, , it is time to make you come."

Alice laughed loudly, freely at his serious tone.

"Glad I amuse you."

"Oh, you do, you do," she continued to giggle as he crawled back on the bed, between her legs.

"Tell me everything you feel."

Alice placed her hands on her breasts and closed her eyes. She could sense his head dipping down.

"I feel your hair brushing my stomach."

"Open your eyes."

Alice looked down at the top of his head, his blond hair, between her legs—his mouth so close to her.

"The visual stimulus should aid arousal."

Alice burst out in a fit of laughter again. "Is the visual stimulus the dependent or the independent variable?"

Jasper turned his head to her thigh, and laughed against her skin.

_A laugh, a full-on laugh!_

She egged him on, "Oh, my scientist. Tell me more about experimental psychology."

He laughed more and shook his head.

Threading her fingers in his hair, she said, "I love your laugh. You should laugh more often, Jasper."

"It's easy to do with you."

"Tell me more about science… are we going to test a hypothesis? Do we write a lab report later?"

He cleared his throat. "Enough Tom Foolery, Ms. Brandon, I'm on a mission. This is serious business."

"Yes, sir," she rasped, suddenly feeling far from laughter.

"Keep telling me what you feel. Touch your breasts. Watch me."

Alice followed orders. She pulled her nipples with her fingers, tipped with a French manicure.

She stared at this beautiful man, placing his hand on her abdomen, pulling her skin taught with his thumb, fully exposing her pink flesh. He parted his lips, then licked the full length of her sex.

"Oh, God," she whispered. "Warm. I feel warm."

He did it a second time, and Alice roughly palmed her swelling breasts.

"Tingling… my thighs… my stomach… pins and needles."

Jasper tilted his head to the side and sucked the sensitive sliver of flesh between his lips, humming a deep tone.

_He's sucking my clitoris and I can barely feel it? For Fuck's Sake!_

"Pressure. I feel pressure, deep in my stomach."

He slipped his hands under her pelvis and looked up at Alice for assurance.

"Yes, it's okay," she said in a voice thick with lust.

Alice used her thumbs to tweak her nipples as she massaged her soft, sensitive breasts. Being sure she watched, Jasper extended his tongue, then drove it deep within her sex. She watched him dig into her again and again, his cheeks brushing against her thighs as he moved his head.

"Yes… yes," she strived to keep talking, to attempt to describe something she never felt before. "Everywhere, I'm tense in every place I can feel, please don't stop."

She whimpered as she manipulated her breasts more roughly. Gasping for air, she walked to the edge of her orgasm and teetered there. Jasper moved his head in small, fast circles.

"So… tight," she stuttered. "Deep in my stomach… pulling… almost… please don't stop."

Jasper stretched his legs out on the bed, supporting his weight on his elbows. He rocked his pelvis into the mattress, and groaned from his chest.

"Yes, that… more."

Again, he rocked into the bed. And again… he started a slow rhythm, grinding onto the mattress. The small muscles in his shoulders and arms clenched and released with each move of his head and hips.

Alice was aching, every cell, begging for release. Pulling at his hair, she wanted to thrust into his mouth, feel what she could not. It was as if layers of fabric separated his mouth from her sex—the feeling was distant—maddening.

"Oh, God… please fuck me, Jasper."

He pulled away for a second to simply say a firm, "No," then continued to consume.

Alice could take no more, the build, the dark pressure, the tight coiling of her body, mind, and soul—it was too intense.

"I don't think… I can't…"

Jasper did not stop. She could hear him sucking on her; smell her come.

Without lifting his head, he held his index finder in the air.

_Does he want me to wait? Hold on? I can't take anymore… fake it?_

Jasper then slipped his finger inside of her. He lifted his head, his face smeared with her liquid, and met Alice's eyes as he turned his hand, facing up.

Though she did not break her stare, she saw the movement of his wrists.

The only sound that could be heard was the matched rhythm of their panting breaths.

He crawled over her, his finger still inside, and covered her mouth with his own. He kissed so powerfully, she lost her breath and drowned in her own taste. His tongue fucked her mouth the way she wanted his cock to fuck her sex.

Hard.

She danced on the brink of release, wanting to pull her skin off of herself.

He moved his mouth to her neck; sucking and biting—marking her, she was sure. She hoped.

Jasper began thrusting himself into her leg in time with the finger inside of her.

Closing her eyes, Alice pretended he was inside of her, making love to her.

_So. Fucking. Close. _

"More… I need more, please, Jasper…" _or stop._

She could not bear to stop him. She could not bear to continue.

Jasper stopped suddenly and lifted his face from her breast. His broad chest rose and fell as he caught his breath.

The raw look in his eyes nearly frightened Alice, but his voice was soft when he said, "I've completely fallen for you."

_Oh. _

His hand between her legs jerked once.

Alice fell off the edge of ecstasy, her entire being scattering out into the atmosphere. Her eyes filled with tears and she screamed out, "Fuck, Jasper, Fuck, Fuck," and she clutched at the skin on his neck and back. It was the most extraordinary experience of her life—parts of her body she didn't know she had dance and vibrated blissfully as she fell to the earth.

Alice opened her eyes and saw Jasper staring down at her in.

"That was awesome," he said, completely unguarded.

"Thank you," her voice, saturated with impending tears.

Jasper kissed each eye, and dropped his head to her neck, breathing warmth over her.

Slowly, he rocked into her thigh again.

Alice hooked her thumbs into the back of his briefs. "Let's get these off."

Jasper sat up on his knees and began to pull down his briefs, but Alice stopped him.

"Can I have the pleasure?"

"The woman knows what the woman wants."

Grabbing Alice's hands, he helped her sit up. Carefully, she pulled the elastic band of his shorts away from his body, never liking the way an erection bounced when freed from its entrapment. She pulled the boxer briefs to his knees, and Jasper finished removing them, tossing the wad of fabric onto the floor.

His erection was smooth and large. The head was swollen and wet. She curled her fingers around him and stroked the muscle.

Jasper groaned.

Alice struggled to sit up further and position herself to take him in her mouth.

"No, no," he pulled away.

"What? Why?"

"It looks awkward."

"I don't care."

"I do."

"Get on your side," she instructed.

Jasper complied, too aroused to argue. Alice rolled to her side and lined herself up with the most beautiful cock belonging to the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

"Does it hurt to be on your side?"

"No," she said, reminding herself to never tell the truthful answer.

Alice could not wait to have him in her mouth and wasted no time doing so. No teasing, no foreplay needed, she sucked him into her mouth and took him down to where her hand held his base.

"_Oh, God."_

Jasper cupped her head as she sucked in her cheeks and swirled around the sensitive head with her tongue.

Letting go of his shaft, she tugged on his balls and felt them harden.

"So good."

He let out a quick staccato series of moans as he thickened even more.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh… I'm going to come."

Sliding her hand over his hip and around to his ass, she pulled him closer.

"I want to come in your mouth," he nearly cried his request, coming undone at the seams.

_No need to beg._

With Jasper in her mouth, she gave a subtle nod.

One guttural sound, then silence.

He dug his hand in her hair. The first hot stream of come hit the back of her throat. And then a second… a third…

Come filled Alice's mouth as she sucked and swallowed.

When he began to soften, she pulled off of him, pressing her lips firmly around him and sucking along the way.

Jasper flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, catching his breath.

"Good?" She asked, knowing the answer.

"Yeah… great."

He reached over and stroked the back of his finger down her cheek.

"I want to _spoon_," he said, drawing out the o sound the way he did with '_moody_,'

But Alice knew spooning, being on her side, would be painful.

"I like the way we usually sleep," she said.

Jasper raised a brow, knowingly. "So… being on your side doesn't hurt?"

Alice shook her head and rolled to her back.

"Busted?" he asked.

"Busted."

Reaching down, he pulled the sheet over them. "I love when data supports my hypothesis." He mimicked her, teasingly, "Doesn't hurt to be on my side. Nope, not one bit."

Jasper positioned himself next to Alice, pressing his front onto her side, and draped his arm over her.

"We have to wait until it feels good for both us," she mocked back.

Jasper laughed as he reached over her and turned off the bedside lamp.

"Good night, Alice." He kissed her tenderly.

"Night, Jasper."

Alice lay in silence for several moments, still reeling at the whole evening. She waited until his breath became deep and slow, hoping he was asleep. Finally, she let out the words that had perched on her tongue.

"I think I love you," she breathed into the darkness.

After several long seconds, she sighed her relief, and began to drift to sleep.

"Me too," was the last thing she heard.

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More story proper coming soon.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	26. Teaser Chapter 38

Hi Friends,

A little tease. I'll send one out each day until the next chapter is posted. It is quite long and I'm thinking about breaking it in two to get it out more quickly.

I hope this finds you well.

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She Gives Me Religion  
Teaser  
Chapter Thirty-eight

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I take another sip of coffee, my warm comfort, and contemplate the hour ahead. Today is our turning point. Dr. Eleazar and I have already had sessions with Carlisle and Esme, even Jasper came for a session, and now it's Bella's turn. If all goes well, I'll move back into the condo tonight, Bella will move in this weekend, and I'll cut back my sessions to a few times a week.

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Warm regards,

Liz x


	27. Another Teaser Ch 38

Hello Friends,

I am thrilled, thrilled, thrilled you have not forgotten about these two. I love the responses from the teaser and the outtake. It's wonderful to hear from new readers as well as my lovely trusted regulars. I'll be getting back to reviews soon, but right now, I'm writing like the wind.

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She Gives Me Religion  
Chapter Thirty-eight  
Teaser Two

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The door swings open as I step on the small porch.

"Edward." Charlie is chewing a toothpick and scanning my face and body.

"Chief Swan." I shake his hand and he grants me entrance.

"I just made a pot of coffee," he says, walking through the dinning room and into the kitchen. I follow behind, shoving my shaking hands into my pockets. "How was the drive?"

_Don't be scared, just speak the truth. _

"Fine. Good, sir. I made good time." He turns and looks at me with a disapproving glance. "I mean, I didn't speed. Light traffic coming out of Seattle."

"You take milk, right?"

"Yes, milk." I feel like a pussy, he's so cool with his black coffee.

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Be well,

Liz x


	28. Teaser Chapter 41

*shy wave* Hi all. I know, I know. It's been a while. That real life career thing has kicked my butt this month and my pace for finishing this story for you is delayed. I haven't even been able to wave hi on twitter. I hope this can hold you over while I finish this long, last chapter-about ten days. Also, if any of my Italian speaking readers wouldn't mind PM'ing me, I could use a hand. One reason for delay is my research for this chapter, specifically my Italian language research.

Sooo, in the last chapter, B x E got engaged and decided to marry in Assisi-simple and soon.

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She Gives Me Religion  
Teaser  
Chapter Forty-one

"I don't care how much money it costs us. Take it all!" I pace around Carlisle's office. Though I've committed to no more than two pacing sessions a day, this news certainly calls for one.

"Edward, it's not a matter of money. Are you suggesting we pay someone off?"

"No… call it a donation. We'll call it whatever we have to. We're getting married in that church."

"Edward…"

"This is crap, Carlisle, total crap."

"Crap? Since when do you say crap?"

"I'm trying to clean up my language. I'm going to be a father, I can't keep cussing like a sailor."

"A noble goal." He leans forward in his chair. "Edward, let's think about this logically. If it is really important to you to marry in St Francis Cathedral, there are steps we can take. It will simply take more time."

"We don't have more time, we're leaving for Italy in less than a week." I plop in a chair and slump down.

"It's not about the cathedral, for you to get married in any Catholic church, you both need counseling. You're a Methodist, and the church must to determine that Bella, in her state, isn't feeling forced into marriage. There are a few other things too."

"Like what?"

"Seminary, Edward. You know much of this."

My brain is scrambled, but I think I know where he is going.

"You can't receive our vows, can you?"

"No. I can be part of the service, but not receive your vows."

I nod. It's not what I want.

"The bigger issue is how you will raise your child." _Crap._ "You know you'll have to promise the church you will raise your children Catholic."

"Right," I say with hopeless breath.

"Have you talked about your child's religion with Bella? The ceremony?"

I shake my head. "No. Everything's going so quickly_._"_ I'm sorry, God, but right now, it's true…_ "I hate organized religion."

"Wonderful sentiment for a seminarian."

"Well, I hate all of them but my own… most of the time."

"Clearly, a conversation with Bella is in order."

I nod, feeling reluctant to bring bad news and have difficult conversations. Everything has felt like a dream since the proposal—I hate to break our stride.

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Speaking of research, if you are interested, I have a pinterest for this chapter-filled with visual spoilers. pinterest (dot) com/lizlemonbennett/she-gives-me-religion/

Warm regards,

Liz x


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